The Alchemist
by Mother Of The Universe
Summary: HUMAN AU. The island of Primus is filled with Alchemist and Immortals, and the philosophers stone is blue. But the island is far from perfect; between the gold appearance lies the rust of slavery, corruption, and civil war. And as two friends turned enemies lead the opposing sides against each other, a woman on a quest for revenge makes it her goal to eliminate martyrdom.
1. Prologue

**Hey! I'm MotherUniverse, and this is my first donation to the Transformers Prime fandom.**

 **So, this is a human AU, where instead of Autobots, we've got Alchemist, and everything else will become apparent as time goes on.**

 **This story is rated T because of gore, violence, and bad language. The topic of rape will be handled, but nothing explicit will be described. I'll have a general avoidance of sexual elements since I can't write them, but it's a thing that happens, especially in scenarios that occur in this story. Discussions of slavery, class difference, anarchism, war, and other politically triggering issues will occur in this story. That being said, if you don't want to deal with controversy, I suggest you go read something else.**

 **In the beginning of the story, pretty much nobody is born yet. Since the concept of immortality will be explored, one can see why. All relevant characters will pop up when they pop up.**

 **Enjoy please.**

 **And without further ado, on with the show!**

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Prologue

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The island of Primus was famous for its Alchemy, and, rumor had it, had successfully created a Philosopher's stone, granting immortality to many of the islands inhabitants. However, while most legends depicted the Philosopher's Stone as a brilliant red orb, in reality, the Philosopher's Stone the Alchemist of Primus had created was in the form of murky blue crystals, which where given the name "Energon" for the sheer amount of energy contained in a single shard of the crystal.

Despite Primus being a pillar of knowledge and science, the island was far from devine or perfect; it thrived off a cruel system of classes, with the top being the rich and cruel tyrants, who used Immortality as blackmail, and frequently quarreled over Energon, and the bottom being made up of slaves, who were forced to work almost all hours of the day, surviving off little food, and nothing but the thin clothes on their backs to keep them warm during the night.

The slaves were usually either captured from other countries, or made from the citizens who where so poor they couldn't afford to become anything else but a slave. Either way, the slave traders made good business, and often became some of the richest people on the island. Evidently, because of their wealth, they would get major says in the affairs of the government, meaning that slavery would never have a chance at being abolished, unless someone was able to make a case against it that not even those profiting from it could disagree with.

It was on one particular slaver transport boat that sparked the beginning of young slave Orion Pax's journey. He had accidentally fallen asleep on a boy next to him in the boat. It was funny how fate worked; if Orion had simply fallen asleep on anyone else, or was not seated next to the boy at all, than everything would be different.

"Get off!" Shouted a gruff, mid-puberty-sounding voice, cutting through Orion's sleep like a knife. The young boy stirred a bit, but tried to stitch his sleep back up with the threads of exhaustion, once again closing his eyes, and falling asleep again on the solid surface of smooth skin and muscle that he fell asleep upon in the first place.

"I said get off!" The voice shouted again, this time, adding his elbow into the equation. Orion felt the surface he had rested himself upon betray him, with a quick but painful jab to his ribs, the large boy who he fell asleep upon glaring at him with malice and annoyance.

Orion stared at the boy who had elbowed him. He was tall, a good five inches taller than Orion at least, and was well-built, every inch of his body covered in muscle. His skin was beige, just a shade darker than Orion's, leading him to assume that the bigger boy had come from a place just a little farther south than where he came from. His eyes where a brilliant reddish-brown, and his pitch-black hair grew in small, close-shaven tuffs across his head.

Orion was quite the opposite. While his skin was only a shade lighter, his tuff of red hair, and multiple splotches of red freckles across his entire body, made him look more pale than he really was. His eyes where a murky blue, and his form was that of a short, skinny boy, whose body strength didn't amount to much; while the boy himself held so little self-confidence that his form seemed to match. However, what he lacked in strength and courage, he made up for in wisdom and kindness.

Orion wasn't sure why he started crying when he did. All he knew was that his family was dead, and he was about to spend his life as a slave. The entire trip he had been abused and neglected, and it seemed like he would forever be viewed as nothing but the scum of the earth. And not even the boy next to him wanted anything to do with him. So he started crying, embarrassing as it was.

The larger boy's entire demeanor changed, his eyes softening, looking guilty, but there was something else. Almost protectiveness.

"Oh shit!" He cried out, upon seeing the smaller boys tears. "I didn't mean to make you cry! You can sleep on me, it's not that big of a deal,"

Orion shook his head. "No, you don't want me to,"

The larger boy let out a sigh, turning away. "Whatever. Why do I care anyways,"

After a minute of attempting to ignore the sobbing child, the larger boy finally gave up, and, with a small, albeit exaggerated, groan, he wrapped his large arm around the small figure, and scooted him closer to himself. "It's fine, your fine," He told the boy. "Yeash, I'm finally getting shipped to someplace cool and the first thing I do is make a little kid cry,"

"I'm 15," Orion corrected with what could almost be described as a pout.

"Yeah, and I'm God's mother," The large boy retorted sarcastically.

"It's true!" Orion insisted.

"Whatever," The older boy sighed, deciding not to comment on it. If the boy wanted to insist that he was 15 years old, who was he to shatter the kids dreams?

"So, what's your name?" Orion asked. It was an innocent enough of a question, but it was one that made the larger boy quite frustrated.

He laughed, even though it wasn't funny at all. "I don't have a name. Was never given one. I'm just called whatever my masters choose to call me. Last master called me #39, but I was #108 before that, and before that I was #17, and so on. So I don't have one,"

"You mean your parents never named you?" Orion asked innocently.

The boy let out a scoff. "Parents? I was born a slave. If I ever had a name, I forgot it; The moment a slave baby exit it's mother's uturus, we're carried off and sold to the nearest slave-school, where we're raised to work. The only reason I'm not a brainwashed sod is because I've been sold to many times to have a definite 'master' I'm supposed to worship,"

"Oh," Orion hummed quietly. "I guess that makes sense. Maybe you'll get a name now,"

"Unlikely," The nameless boy scoffed. "But I guess your lucky enough to have a name, considering you asked for mine,"

"Orion," The smaller boy told his new friend. "Orion Pax,"

"You don't look like an Orion Pax," The nameless boy said.

"Well, wadda I look like?" Orion responded curriously.

The nameless boy simply shrugged. "I'm guessing you had a family at some point, if you have a name,"

"Umm hmm," Orion hummed. "I had parents, and two older brothers. They were pretty strong. And about as big as you,"

"They must've been pretty cool then," The nameless boy said pridefully.

Orion nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! My entire family was really cool. They really valued education, so we learned literature, foreign languages, mathematics, astrology, and even a bit of Alchemy!"

"You know alchemy?" The nameless boy cried, surprised and impressed.

"Only a little. My dad was much better at Alchemy than I was," Orion said shyly, not expecting the praise. "But…" He continued sadly, his eyes brimming with tears, "When the soldiers invaded my hometown… my family, they… were all killed!"

The nameless boy looked at him sadly, and pulled the smaller boy closer. They just met. He didn't really care that much about the kid. But he knew one thing; when people were sad, they needed someone to comfort them. So he would do that for the boy named Orion Pax.

"How did you survive?" The nameless boy asked, mostly for curiosity's sake, and to determine a slavers reasoning for letting a boy with an education live.

"They wanted someone smart. Apparently there was a special request. I couldn't fight them off, I was too small. And they liked that. They liked that I'm not strong enough to rebell," Orion answered.

"I guess it's the opposite for me," The nameless boy mused. "I'm plenty strong; could probably lift an ox without breaking a sweat. But I'm not smart. If I used nothing but my strength to get away, there'd be nothing I could do with my life, without learning something. So I'm stuck,"

"Maybe I can teach you how to read. Then you can escape,"

"How are _you_ gonna teach me?" The nameless boy scoffed. "You said you were taken as a special request. That means you'll be carted off by this _requester_ while I go to the auctions. We'll probably never see eachother again,"

Orion shook his head, a confident smile on his face, despite his pain at the recent loss of his family. "No, I'll find you. Somehow,"

"Kid, not like I don't think you'll try, but I've had too many people tell me the same thing only to be carted off far away. The ones who said they'd find me? I'm going to an auction on some isolated island, and they're who-knows-where, probably no closer to freedom than they were when I left them,"

Orion shook his head again. The nameless boy was almost amused by the boys confidence. Despite the fact that he knew it to be the opposite, considering the life this boy will have now, a small part of the nameless boy hoped that the cold reality of a slave's world would not kick the optimistic boy over.

"We're heading to an island called Primus," Orion explained.

"Yeah, the island where people live forever or something," The nameless boy stated, unsure why this fact gave Orion hope that the would reunite.

"I read about that island. It's pretty isolated. Only ever makes contact with other places when they're in need of more resources, like slaves, I guess," Orion informed the larger boy. "Once you enter the island, unless you're some sort of merchant, you don't come out. Everyone stays there, including the slaves. We'll be on the same island for the rest of our lives. I'll find you at some point,"

Every inch of experience the nameless boy had gone through told him not to put his hope in that boy's words. But there was something about Orion, — weather his tiny demeanor made the nameless boy want to protect him, or weather the way his voice shined with honesty and confidence despite the horrors he had lived through, or maybe it was because the boy had chosen to befriend _him_ of all people; a nameless slave, who's size intimidated all he came across, who had been sold so many times he could barely remember the faces or voices of even the closest of friends he had made in each household, who had all his hopes crushed by the cruel reality of slavery, who had become so cynical and nihilistic that it was hard to believe such an optimistic boy could ever befriend someone like him — something that made the nameless boy want to believe him, and something that made the nameless boy hope that maybe, just maybe, Orion Pax would be the one friend he made that he would be able to see once again.

For the first time on the entire trip, the nameless boy laughed an actual, real laugh. And he couldn't stop laughing.

"Are you alright?" Orion asked.

"My ribs hurt," The nameless boy responded, still laughing. "Your really something, aren't you, Orion?"

"What do you mean?" The smaller boy asked, confused, and somewhat self-conscious over the larger boys laughter.

"You actually made me believe you! Me! Of all people!"

"I'm confused," Orion stated planely.

The nameless boy calmed down a bit. "Your so hopeful and optimistic. And maybe it's because you haven't seen the things I have, but you've still seen things, so I'm surprised you are that way,"

Orion responded, "I don't understand,"

The nameless boy simply shook his head. "That's alright. You don't have to. We're complete opposites, you and me. And yet it's _you_ of all people who actually made me hopeful that things will get better,"

"Uh, thank you?" Orion said, still more than a little confused. He supposed the older boy was just laughing at the irony, or maybe he was laughing at himself, or at an inside joke he had made a long time ago.

The nameless boy finally finished laughing, and placed an arm around his new friend. "Orion, you and me? We're gonna have a good life. It's gonna happen,"

Orion smiled a smile that was bright, ernest, and impossibly wide. "Yeah!" He agreed.

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 **And done. Hope you enjoyed. Leave a review. Please. I really like reviews.**

 **~MotherUniverse signing out**


	2. Act 1

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Act 1:

Doomed Arcana

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	3. Chapter 1

**Hi my children! MotherUniverse here again with another chapter of The Alchemist!**

 **Sorry about that little placeholder chapter, but I am dividing this story into "acts" of sort. This first act will contain the details leading up to the civil war; aka, Megatron and Optimus Prime's backstory. Of course, it's a little different than the actual continuity, but that's why this story is an AU and not a cannon based plot line or anything.**

 **Just a warning for this chapter, a character get's molested. I don't describe it in graphics, but you know it happened. In a short amount of time, our main character goes through the horrors of being dragged into the world of slavery, so obviously, there will be abuse in general, and it might be triggering to some readers. I'll try not to go too in-depth with the torture and shit that happens throughout this story, in order to keep it T-rated, but bad things happen. I'll try to handle sensitive topics the best I can, but I'm only 17 years old, so I will probably mess up at some point. But just tell me if I did.**

 **That being said, please read and leave a review. And if anyone has good writing advice, I'll be happy to hear it.**

 **And without further ado, on with the show!**

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Chapter 1

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The biggest business on the island of Primus was the slavery business.

The slaves were dragged into three separate buildings, one for the woman, one for the men, and a third for children. Orion Pax was immediately dragged towards the children's building, while the nameless boy he had just made friends with was dragged off to the mens building. The air was filled with the screams and wails of mother's being separated from their children. Yells of both family being separated and slaver's trying to organize the masses blended together creating a cacophony of hell and agony. The crack of a whip would sound every so often, somehow sounding over the screams. Orion took it all in, tears involuntarily spilling through his eyes as he was overwhelmed by the sensation of fear, and the smells of dirt, sea salt, smoke, and the metallic smell of blood that already coated the freshly imported slaves from the whips. Women's backs where broken open, their blood spilling down their skin; punished for crying for the loss of their children. Yet still, they screamed out in agony, not because of the pain in their backs, but because they're children were being dragged away from them. Orion felt as if he was going to pass out.

"Orion!" Came a voice out of the crowd. It was easy to spot the nameless boy; his height made him practically tower over the rest of the people. "I'll see you again, ok?"

Despite being overwhelmed by the terror that was the slave-import docs, Orion found himself smiling at the nameless boy's words. He was barely able to choke a sound out of his throat, his vocal cords seemingly clogged by the nauseating sense of terror. But he still managed to shout out a confirmation, to let the nameless boy know that the two of them would, in fact, be reunited again. "Right!" He shouted.

The last thing Orion saw before being shoved into the building for slave-children was the nameless boy giving him a smile of reassurance, though, whether or not it made Orion feel any better was still debated to this day.

It was difficult to adjust his eyes to the dark light of the slave-house, contrasting to the bright light outside. Dozens of children, all of various sizes, races, ages, and genders, were forced to strip themselves (not like they were wearing much anyways), and forced into showers. The water was cold, and the room smelled like sweat. The slavers guiding the kids through the house roughly soaped the kids bodies and hair, and Orion felt particularly uncomfortable when the slaver begin to wash his body.

The man washing Orion started inching closer to a spot Orion didn't want touched. "Don't touch me there," He commanded, trying to make his voice sound athoritive.

The slaver laughed. "Your cute kid,"

Orion realized was being molested. He screamed out, begging for someone to help him, but it only resulted in the slaver violating him punching him hard in the stomach. Once the man got his fill, he finally let Orion go. The boy ran out of the showers, searching frantically for some element of safety; the arms of his parents or big brothers. Maybe even the nameless boy he had just met. Anything at all. But he had nothing, and so did the other slaves experiencing the same horrors of him.

Before Orion could recover, a slaver grabbed his arm, and hearted him and the rest of the children into the next room. Orion felt violated, and disgusted, and he hated it. The moment he just experience flashed through his mind over and over again, but before he could possibly recover from being washed by a stranger in places he never wanted anyone to touch, he was grabbed by yet again another stranger, and thrown into a burlap robe that could be considered clothing. Thankfully, that particular slaver barely touched him, though he couldn't say the same for some of the unlucky kids next to him.

He was then dragged into the next room, and forced into a line, where he would soon be branded. While most societies kept slaves of different races, and therefore was able to tell the difference between a slave and a freeman, Primus had slaves of all races, so, in order to tell if someone was a slave, the slaver's would brand the back of the slaves right hand with the ancient Primidian symbol for slavery.

The room was filled to the brim with the screams and wails of children as the hot iron burned and imprint into their skin. The moment they were done, their hand would be shoved into cold water, before the child would be shoved off into the next room. Orion's turn for branding came all-to-soon.

His hand burned with the sensation of hot iron melting into his skin. He felt as if his skin was turning to liquid, and that he was being burned alive. The moment the brand-iron was lifted from his skin, his hand was shoved into the freezing water, and the stinging sensation immediately told Orion that the water had salt.

The sudden sensations of pain threatened to take over, as Orion's vision became cloudy, and black crept into the corner of his eyes. He barely felt being pulled away from the branding station.

A week ago, his entire family was killed, and he was forced into an overcrowded and unheated slaver's ship. Now, in the matter of twenty minutes, he was forced through crowds, exposed to hellish visions, violated, branded, and thrown around like a property piece. He guessed that now he was.

Finally, Orion was allowed to sit down. Though, his period of rest was minimal, as an older slaver immediately shoved a piece of paper with one sentence in front of his face.

"Read," She demanded.

The sentence was in Greek, which was neither Orion's native language or the official language of Primus, but it was still a language he could understand.

"'I vow to serve, honor, and obey the great master who commands me; and I give my mind, body, and soul to him, forever and ever," Orion read, speaking in fluent Greek.

"He's the one," She said, to who, Orion wasn't sure. Nethertheless, she grabbed him by his wrist, and dragged him off to a separate room than the rest of the auction house. In that room sat an elderly man, with a long white beard, and piercing blue eyes. "This is Trion," The woman explained. "Alpha Trion. But you will call him Master," She then shoved him into the room, and walked out.

"So," Trion said, his voice holding a triumphant boom in it, making his words sound like commandments set in stone. "Your the boy who will help with my work,"

Orion didn't say anything, instead, he just stood uncomfortable.

"Alright, since I paid in advance, I assume I can leave," Trion said, standing up. "What's your name, boy?"

"Ah!" Orion squeaked out. "Orion Pax,"

"Orion, eh?" Trion hummed out. "That'll suit you. Now come,"

Orion followed Alpha Trion out of the slave-house, where he was loaded into a cart. There were a few other freshly bought slaves in the cart, all of them were adults, and a large number of them where crying. As Orion got into the cart, he was able to eye the auction stand from far off. Getting up onto the stand was a familiar face; the boy with no name. Orion couldn't tell who his new friend was sold to, but it didn't matter. No matter where they went, they were going to find each other again someday, and together, they would build themselves a life better than that of slavery.

The nameless boy, however, didn't see Orion from where he was. He was just focused on the tons of people shouting out numbers in order to buy him. There were quite a lot of people throwing in prices, as the nameless boy would be a desirable slave, considering his large size and strength. The bidders probably wanted him so they could get their work done fast.

The brand print on his hand was still fresh and hot. It wasn't the first time the nameless boy had been branded, but it was the first time he had been branded for no other reason than to be marked as a slave. The idea of branding slaves was logical, but it was cruel, and the nameless boy began to despise this society build on oppression. He hated Primus. He hated it's people, it's slave-drivers, it's buyers, and sellers. The moment he saw the children get manhandled when separated into their building the nameless boy knew that Orion stood little chance of walking out of that house without being molested. Nobody would dare to violate the nameless boy in such a way — they took one look at him and concluded that it would be a death sentence, — but little Orion Pax, who was selected for his inability to fight against his abusers, would be such an easy target, and it made the nameless boy angry just to think about it.

In all the nameless boy's seventeen years of life, he had never seen an auction so crowded with people. There where always large numbers, but here, not a speak of ground could be seen within the flood of people. The shorter crowd members where in threat of being trampled, and everyone else had to fight in order to be seen. Those who bought slaves had to practically climb their way out of the crowd in order to leave, and if one didn't have strong vocal cords, their price offers would never be heard. It was simply disgusting how many people on that island took part in the slave trade.

The gavel cracked like thunder upon it's podium, as the words "sold, to the Pit Owner!" where shouted above the crowd. The nameless boy was unsure what a "pit owner" was, but he had a feeling he wouldn't like it.

After much struggle, the nameless boy was greeted by a tall, — but not as tall as himself, — well built man, with dark eyes, and brown hair, as well as a grizzly goatee.

"You're a fine young man," He said, looking at the nameless boy as if he where a new type of meat to feed to the lions. "You should prove a glorious entertainment! How old are you,"

"Seventeen," The nameless boy gruffly spat out.

"Your voice holds a lovely boom. Will intimidate your opponents. Do you have a name?"

"No. I have no name,"

The man who bought him shook his head. "That won't do at all. If you want to be a legion, you need a name to be remembered by," he looked the boy up and down. "How about… Megatronus. After the Master of Battle. Your not the first slave I've given that name to, but hopefully you'll be the one to honor it,"

The nameless boy, or Megatronus, as he was now apparently named, wanted desperately to ask what this "pit master" meant by honoring the name, but all of his years as a slave had taught him better than to ask questions. He guessed he would find out soon enough.

And so the two boys, Orion Pax, and Megatronus; One a small and skinny boy with a bright mind and a kind heart, the other a large boy who has seen the horrors of humanity, yet somehow still kept hope that things could be better; would go their separate ways. But, as they promised each other, they would meet once again, and when they did, their meeting would change the threads of time. And the society built on oppression would soon turn into a dystopia plagued by war.

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 **Shorter chapter than I intended, but whatever.**

 **I don't really have much to say that I didn't say before, but again, I apologies for making you readers uncomfortable with anything. I'm doing my best to write as well as I can, and it may or may not be good, but whatever.**

 **Any recommendations for this story I'll be happy to hear. I'll be happy to talk character studies, plot threads, ideas, anything. Whatever happens. Please review, and tell me how I'm doing so far. I'm just dong my best to write well. See you next Monday!**

 **~MotherUniverse signing out!**


	4. Chapter 2

**Hello hello! And welcome to the next chapter of the Alchemist! Coming to you every Monday for your delight and pleasure.**

 **This chapter is going to have a bit of details about the live Orion Pax currently lives, since he's the slave/lab assistant of a scientist. There will be some religious theory, as well as connection to Alchemy and it's laws and whatnot, and some other fictional world building, but that's part of the fun of this story.**

 **At this point in the story, I'm focusing on Orion Pax and Megatronus, and the event's that lead up to their eventual war between each other. It will be slow going as I build everything up to get to the climax of the first act, but the payoff should be worth it. I'm having fun writing this story, and hopefully you guys will have fun reading it. Please leave a review. Anything helps.**

 **And without further ado, on with the show!**

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Chapter 2

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 _Alchemy is the science of transforming matter. The main purpose of this science is purification. The object in transformation must start at a state of imperfection, until it has achieved a state of perfection. For many inanimate object, this state of perfection is gold. However, for living beings, this state is Immortality. Even more so, the most perfect transformation of a human soul is God. In order to purify one's soul enough to achieve a God-like state, one must first purify the body, and then the mind. To purify the body, one must achieve immortality. To purify the mind, one must pursue knowledge and truth, in order to achieve the greatest of understandings of the world one's soul will become one with. In order to purify the soul, one must present their purified body and mind to the All Spark; a relic that is rumored to hold the soul of God Himself. If one is deemed worthy, they will be given the Matrix of Leadership; a piece of God's Body that can contain a perfect soul; and through that, one who has been given this blessing, will become a Prime; a God-like being, named after Primus; the true name of God._

"Pax!" Came a shout from outside the hallway.

Orion put the book down, and immediately lept towards his duties.

It had been a month since being sold to Alpha Trion, and Orion found himself worked to death. Every day, from five in the morning to eleven at night, Orion would do whatever Trion needed him too, from fetching scientific equipment, to giving assistance in the labs. While Orion loved the things he learned from Trion's work, he wished that he would be allowed to have actual breaks. Whenever Trion took a break, Orion was expected to continue the experiment during his absence. Messing up would lead to punishment. While Orion was lucky enough to have never suffered a beating by the hands of his master, Trion would often deny him food privileges for messing up, and sometimes the other overseers would beat him up themselves. Even so, Orion guessed he could consider himself lucky; his prison was filled with books, and he spent whatever small amounts of freetime he was given learning all he could about the science he was so precariously required to work on.

The stress of his job showed by the bags under his eyes, and his skinny body only getting thinner. Not only did he work long hours, but he had to spent night time studying, and even though he enjoyed learning alchemy, he would rather spend his nights sleeping. However, Orion knew better than to mess up on his work; he actually wanted to eat food. And the more he knew the better. Though, it just made him more exhausted, and Orion had come close to collapsing in sleep quite a few times.

Orion had just been allowed a five-minute break, and Orion spent it reading through the Alchemy book he had been given by Trion in order to learn more about the subject. The prospect of immortality was the core of Priminians culture, and those who achieved it where automatically considered the greatest of the great. Alpha Trion was an immortal himself, and therefore did what most immortals did with their life; tried to achieve a level of knowledge that would purify his mind, in order to become a candidate for Prime.

There hadn't been a Prime in many years. They had all practically died out, disappearing without a trace. But the Primas High Council wanted a Prime to be among them, for reasons that Orion didn't know. So, each immortal did their best to purify their mind; and Alpha Trion's methods of purification was apparently creating experiments.

Orion rushed into the lab, in time to see a petri dish explode, covering it's radius in flesh colored goo. Orion wrinkled his nose in disgust, but didn't say anything.

"Clean this up, Pax," Trion demanded. "And when your done, there are a set of notes that I want you to analyze and test out. I have a feeling I'm close to a breakthrough,"

Orion decided to ask a question he had never asked before; "Breakthrough on what? What are you trying to make?"

Surprisingly enough, Alpha Trion smiled, his eyes twinkling with pride and amazement. "I'm trying to create a creature only described in legions, a feat that only God Himself can achieve. The creation of a homunculus,"

Orion knew what a homunculus was; a human created by alchemy. It was an ambitious goal; while the creator of a homunculus was rumored to achieve instant mind purification, many people feared what the consequences for doing a feat only God could do would be. Apparently, Alpha Trion didn't care.

"A homunculus?!" Orion exclaimed in both apprehension and amazement. "But the creation of a homunculus is something that's never been done before!"

"Which is why I'm going to try it," Trion informed his student. "What I plan to do is create a growth-develop simulator, as well as a half-alive fetus. Something that can function perfectly, but simply lacks the life-spark to consider it alive. Like someone comatose, their Soul has left their body, but the body continues to live on in case the soul ever decides to come back. Once the body is created, we use Energon to create an artificial soul. I want you to do some research on Homunculi, Pax," Trion demanded. "This experiment cannot mess up. An alchemist must never stop growing until they reach perfection,"

Orion began to clean up the mini-explosion while Trion gathered more materials to continue on with his experiment. Once the table was all clean, Orion started looking through the notes that Trion wanted him to analyze.

Soon enough, a butler had knocked on the door and told Alpha Trion that it was time for him to go to lunch. Orion's stomach growled at the concept of food, but slaves were only given one breakfast and one dinner, sometimes less if they lost their meal privileges that day.

"I have no time," Trion told the butler, like he often did. The man was obsessed with his work, and the effect was showing as he grew thinner and more tired. Unfortunately for Orion, whenever Trion worked, he had to work, and whenever Trion needed to work but couldn't, Orion would be the one who worked.

"If you do not eat, you will not have the energy to continue on with your experiment," The butler told him logically.

"Fine," Trion muttered, walking out to follow him. "Orion, those notes better be analyzed by the time I get back. I want to start on the next part of this experiment as quickly as possible," And with that, he left.

Orion looked over the notes, trying to ignore his incredulous hunger. If he messed up, it was possible that his dinner privileges would be denied. Orion stared at the notes, and began reading.

 _The Principle of Human Life states that all Humans will hunger for knowledge, intaking the sacred food, and fuling the mind with precious information. This hunger will not be satisfied until the mind has reached the food… Truth._

Orion shook his head, realizing that he read the word wrong. Maybe he should start with a different pile of notes; one that did not describe the human hunger for anything. His stomach growled, upset at its emptiness, and the fatigue was starting to get to Orion. He couldn't think.

He realized that he had been staring at the note in hand without reading it. He looked at the sentence, the words slowing morphing into letters. They looked wrong, and illegible. Wasn't he supposed to test them out or something? That must mean that there was some part of the notes that contained an experiment. Maybe he should focus on finding that and not reading the theories behind them.

After a few minutes of page flipping, he finally found the formula for the experiment in his note pile. If he followed the instruction, then all shout turn out well. The first thing he needed to grab was iron. Orion skimmed the shelves, looking for the label that would alert him to the element he needed to find. After looking over every shelf, he finally found the iron at the first shelf he had looked for in the first place. He must've been very out-of-it today.

Orion brought the iron over to the table, before staring at the next element in the materials list, barely reading it, as his mind wandered into the corners of exhaustion. He remembered his mother, and how she would kiss him and his older brothers goodnight every night, no matter how old they get, or how much they insisted that they were too old for that kind of stuff. Orion missed it. He searched the paper again. It said "Sage". That was his mother's name; Sage Pax. Why would his mother be on the list? No, nevermind, that word was "Salt,"

Orion then realized how unproductive he would be if he didn't get some shut-eye. And he didn't want to get into trouble for not completing his task. If he napped for too long, he would also get in trouble, but there was nothing wrong with lying down and resting his eyes, right?

Using an old rolled-up tablecloth as a pillow, he laid down under one of the lab tables and closed his eyes, relishing in the beautiful darkness that covered him.

Orion saw his parents and brothers, standing in a field of grass. He had been to this park before. Confusion swamped his mind. Wasn't he someplace else before? And why did he feel like his family shouldn't be here?

"Hey! Orion!" Yelled his brothers. They were in the process of trying to climb up a tree. "Help us get Tea Bag down!"

Tea bag was their cat. It was stuck in a tree. But Orion couldn't remember a single time that they took their cat outside. Orion climbed up his brothers, who were sitting on eachothers shoulders, and climbed into the tree to look for the cat. It was a large birch tree, and it seemed to be bigger on the inside than out. There was a large treehouse in the middle, with bridges and huts, and Orion found himself wandering the entire tree house. He could've swarn the tree wasn't big enough to hold the tree house.

Eventually, he found Tea Bag sitting in a hut. Orion remembered Tea Bag as a normal house cat, but he was staring at a large, orange, black, and white striped tiger. Strangely enough, it didn't phase him.

"Come on, Tea Bag! Let's get down," Orion told the big cat, petting its face, and attempting to pull her along with him.

Tea Bag wouldn't move. It stubbornly refused. Orion wasn't sure why Tea Bag was being so stubborn, she was usually never like this. Maybe it was because she was a tiger instead of a cat.

"Come on! Our brother's are waiting for us," Orion said, tugging on the tiger,"

"Pax!" Shouted a voice Orion didn't recognize. He took a moment to wonder where it came from.

"Orion Pax get up this instant!"

Orion was shoved out of his dream with the feeling of cold water splashed across his face. He sat up, realising that he had actually fallen asleep under the desk. Not a single note had been analyzed or tested. There went his hopes for dinner today.

Alpha Trion stood over him, a large frown on his face. "Considering your slacking off, I have the right to assume you got all the work done, did you not?"

Orion shrunk into himself, scared as to what will happen to him.

"Did you not?!" He yelled again.

"No, it's…" Orion spoke out meekly. "Not finished,"

"And yet you slack off?"

"I was tired!" Orion tried to explain himself. "I was too exhausted to even read the papers,"

"I don't want your excuses," Trion interrupted him, his voice calm, but angry. "I want my experiment to get finished as quickly as possible, so I can move on to the next step. If you intend to waste time during the day, than I have no choice than to make you work at night. I want all those papers finished, and you better not do so much as close your eyes. You can sleep when I deem your work finished,"

It wasn't until one o'clock in the morning when Trion deemed poor Orion's work finished. The boy dragged himself off to his sleeping quarters, his stomach growling in hunger, since he hadn't been given any dinner. His quarters where a small broom closet, that was empty, dark, and dusty, but still enough for Orion to lay down in. His "bed" was a mat stuffed with straw and chicken feathers, and two thin sheets, one he rolled up and used as a pillow, the other he used as a blanket. It was cold, and dirty, but Orion supposed he should be glad he wasn't sleeping in the run-down, mold filled slave shack where the other slaves slept. He only got this space because he needed to be close to the lab and the library. He went into his emergency food - slices of bread he would hide in his room in case he needed them, and ate a slice of bread, saddened to realize it was his last slice left. Stomach somewhat filled, Orion laid down on his bed and immediately fell asleep.

He was woken up all too soon by one of Trion's butlers. "Get up," He demanded, harshly yanking Orion by the arm. "You've got work to do,"

Orion glanced out the windows in the lab room to see it was still dark outside. What time was it? Orion was suddenly handed a large stack of papers.

"Go through all of these. Test them out. No brakes until finished," The butler stated, before walking out.

Orion nearly buckled under the wait of the papers. He all but dropped them to the floor, and began to sort through them. If he could organize the papers, then maybe it would be easier to work on the experiment. He needed to get this done. If he went one more day without food, he didn't think he could take it anymore.

His throat felt dry, and Orion wanted to go find water. The pitcher that held water for experiments in it had been carefully marked so that Trion would know if any had been touched. Orion didn't want to risk it. Last time he did so, he ended up losing his food privileges for the entire day.

By the time the sun came up, Orion had sorted through all the papers, and had discovered the reason for his early start. Alpha Trion had been called to a High Council Meeting, that many of the leading immortals where required to go to, and he wanted Orion to do what he could while the man himself was gone. Orion had tried to sneak out for breakfast once, only to discover that some of Trion's slavers where carefully watching the door, making sure he didn't leave the room. Orion had taken the risk and drank some of the experiment water, but there must have been something in it, since he immediately started to dry-heave the moment the liquid entered his systems.

Orion had never felt more overworked. His head throbbed, and his body was sore, protesting whenever he moved it. He needed more sleep, and some food. His thirst was also starting to creep back, but he didn't want to risk the water again. There was nothing edible or drinkable in the entire lab, unless Orion wanted to make himself vomit the already little contaminants in his stomach. He walked a few paces forwards, feeling dizzy and nauseous. Suddenly Orion's legs gave out, and he feel to the ground.

Weakly, the young body tried to push himself up. He grabbed the edge of the lab table, and pulled, forcing his legs underneath him, before shakinly standing up. The moment he was up, he fell back down onto his knees, dry-heaving once again, before spitting up a small amount of blood.

This made Orion even more determined to get the work done. If he could get done, he could have a break, and finally get some much-needed rest. So, forcing himself to his feet, Orion began to start the experiment, following the instructions the best he could. He mixed a yellow solution with a stir-rod, the image of the fluid swirling around the bowl beginning to blur a little, and Orion felt himself sway. Finally, his vision blurred out, and he lost all his senses, his unconscious body falling to the floor.

* * *

 **Cliffhanger? Sorta? Whatever.**

 **I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please leave a review. If you have any questions, I will do my best to answer them without giving spoilers.**

 **I'd like to thank my best friend, both online, and in real life, TheRoseAlchemist17, for reading this story despite not knowing a single thing about the show I based it off of. But have no fear, my friend, I am going to force you to sit through it and watch it if it's the last thing I do!**

 **Anywho, hope you enjoyed the story. Let's see how this goes. Look for the next chapter next Monday!**

 **~MotherUniverse signing out!**


	5. Chapter 3

**Hi people! Another Monday, another chapter.**

 **So, this chapter has gore in it. As in blood. And death. And that's all I've got to say.**

 **Thank you to the wonderful people who followed, favorited, and reviewed this story. I gotta say, I'm happy people are taking an interest in this shit dump created by an amateur writer. Hopefully you will all continue to enjoy it.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own a single thing in the Transformers Fandom. I just own this fic, this fanfiction account, and the laptop I'm writing it on.**

 **And without further ado, on with the show!**

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Chapter 3

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"Megatronus,"

"Meg-a-tron-us"

"Mêg-ah-trōn-us"

The nameless boy, now called Megatronus, carefully said his name over and over into the mirror, trying to determine if it fit him. The name was triumphant and intimidating, but it felt a little too long for his flaver. Maybe he could shorten it once he got free.

He had been taken to a gladiator ring. Of course. He hadn't fought anything yet; so far the most work he was doing was weapon training; but Megatronus knew exactly how the gladiator rings worked; two people would be shoved into a pit, and couldn't come out until one of them killed the other. Apparently, the people of the island thought that this horrid battle was entertainment.

It had been a month since he was sold. Every day when Megatronus was not forced to heavily train for the upcoming fights, he was either sleeping, or thinking of ways he could escape. It wasn't like the gladiator training was terrible; he got fed three healthy and filling meals a day, and was allowed a decent amount of sleep. But he knew that he would soon be forced into a death match, and Megatronus was unsure how he was going to handle that.

Tomorrow would be his first show. The gladiator company that he had been sold to was called "The Pit of Kaon", and they would be competing against other companies for title of top gladiator. Fortunately for Megatronus, he wouldn't have to kill any of the people he had trained with, but even still, killing strangers was not much better.

The slaves in the company would be divided up into teams of four. There would be four rounds to determine the winners. The first would be pretty much a preliminary round; the gladiators would face up against wild and aggressive animals, and the slaughter fest wouldn't end until either all the animals were dead, or all the people. The remaining members of each company would play as teams, where they would face against an opposing team, and attempt to kill all it's members before they killed you. Then there were double rounds, and then single rounds, and the winning company would be whichever one had more people left over. It was vicious, and brutal, but Megatronus knew he couldn't loose. Losing ment death, and Megatronus was determined not to die.

The horn blared from the outside, signalling it was time for training. Megatronus entered the bright, open gladiator pit, where other slaves, most his size or bigger, lined up for whatever the Trainer, — as they were supposed to call the man who owned the company, — had to say to them.

Megatronus found himself on the end of the line, next to a tall but skinny man, who wore a black, v-shaped mask over his face, with clouded dark eyes peeking out from the eye holes. Megatronus couldn't help the curiosity over the man next to him.

"Attention!" Shouted the Trainer. He paissed in a small circle as he addressed the slaves in the ring. "As you should know, tomorrow will be the first tournament of the year. Many of you seem ready, but I have my doubts," His voice was dark, and he looked at the gladiators with a heavy and vicious glare. "Veterans!" He suddenly shouted.

Everyone who had already competed in a tournament before stepped out of the line on the Trainer's command, including the tall, skinny man in the mask, standing next to Megatronus.

"All veterans will report to the training grounds to partake in your usual exercises," The Trainer commanded. As soon as the veterans left, all the new people who had never fought before stood in anticipation and nervousness, wondering what they could possibly be needed for.

"In the months between New Years and this tournament, I have spent considerable time carefully selecting and buying, collecting a considerable handful of fine young men, who are able bodied, and perfectly capable of holding their own in the Pit. I have carefully selected fifty young men, with hopes that they could be the best of the best. Now is your time to prove my decision's worth it,"

The boys in the arina felt a shiver go down their spine. Megatronus took a second to wonder what challenges they would be forced to face.

The Trainer walked over to a platform that could be lifted and lowards from the audience stadium to the battle grounds, and lifted himself to safety. "Let's see how many of you can survive!" He shouted.

With little warning, about twelve ferrell and aggressive lions ran out from the door, and immediately started circling the boys. Megatronus knew these lions; they had been starved for days, and were desperate for any bit of meat they could find. Unfortunately for the well-built, muscle covered boys, they were not lacking in meat.

On the far side of the wall sat the weapons, and it seemed apparent that they were going to need them. However, a wall of aggressive lions stood between the boys and the weapons, and the odds were not good.

One boy, however, decided to take those odds. He ran forwards, trying to slip between the big cats and get out of the circle, however, the lions where quicker, and he ended up being shoved to the ground while six of the lions circling the boys all ran to him and started eating their meal.

Megatronus quickly swallowed down the bile in his throat. He turned away from the image of his poor teammate being eaten alive. He could never remember that boys name, but he was pretty sure it started with a B. Beta-something. Betawhip. That was his name. And Betawhip was dead now.

Megatronus eyed all the leftover animals that hadn't gone for the first meal. His only chance at survival would be to run over to the weapons. He just had to make sure his timing was right.

One boy began to run away, and he was able to get past the lion circle, but ended up becoming the breakfast of two of the beast, while a second boy, who had started running at the same time as the previous, ran past the boy getting eaten, and over to the weapons. One of the lions eating the boy got up and went after him.

Four lions. That's how many were around him. Megatron didn't know all the numbers in the number line, but he did know how to count. The six who had eaten the first boy seemed satisfied with their dinner and began to circle back. Megatronus had to run. Now.

As soon as he took a step, one of the lions jumped at him. Not thinking about anything else but survival, Megatronus dived away from the beast, who ended up sinking its teeth into the boy behind him. Any guilt Megatronus might of felt for letting his classmate get eaten like that was shoved away by the course of pure adrenaline pumping into his body. Before he even told himself to do it, Megatronus found himself sprinting across the arena to the wall where all the weapons stood.

Unfortunately for him, he tripped over a large, loose stone. This got the attention of one of the lions, who had been eating a boy Megatronus could've sworn was his bunkmate. The beast started running towards him, but, thinking on his feet, Megatronus picked up the large stone he had just tripped over, and threw it at the large cat, hitting the animal in the corner of its head. Megatronus registered the blood seeping from the large gash the lion received from the stone, and realized that the beast was pissed off. So Megatron took off running, the creature close on his tail, focusing on nothing but the weapon wall in front of him.

He finally got his hands on one of the weapons; a spear, and nearly yanked off the stand holding it to get it out. The lion pounced at him, claws out, and teeth bared, but Megatronus already had his weapon. He simply ducked, holding the spear up, and let momentum do the rest of the work.

Blood dripped down from where he stabbed the big cat, landing on his arms and hands. It was warm and sticky, and smells like iron. Megatronus quickly tossed away the lions corpse, with the spear still impaled into it, to the side, before grabbing a claymore; the weapon that he found most useful to him during training.

He looked around the battlefield and saw that he wasn't the only one of the boys to kill a lion. The biggest boy in the field; a boy who had been called Skyquake; killed a lion by ripping it's jaw off. Megatronus was surprised when Skyquake's twin; who was identical in all but muscle size, since Skyquake was larger; was nowhere near his brother, who he was usually attached to the hip to. However, with a quick scan around the arena with his eyes, he was able to see the smaller twin near the weapon shack as well, fending off a lion with a mase.

"Dreadwing!" Megatronus called out the boys name, before running over to him, the boy mimicking his action. The two met each other in the middle. "That move you do with your brother. Do you think we can mimic it?" Megatronus asked the other boy, who nodded in conformation, and eagerness to act out on the plan.

The twins were both 13, and despite looking twice their actual age, were both very inexperienced. So they had latched onto Megatronus as a mentor of sorts; a clever boy, sharp as a tack despite lacking in education, and the only older boy who tried to help them.

Megatronus whipped out a shield from the weapons rack, and stood a short distance in front of Dreadwing, bending his knees, and holding the shield flat as possible. With a running start, dreadwing then jumped onto the structure, and with the extra boost of his strong classmate launching him up on the shield, he was able to jump over two lions standing between his previous position and his twin, who where both snaking on two dead boys, and he landed, mace first, on the head of the lion his brother had been fighting, bashing its skull in, and killing it. The two boys then fought efficiently, fighting off whichever beast attempted to kill them.

They had gotten their nicknames from that move, since their lanches into the sky quickly made the Trainer nickname them with the themes of frightful sky dwellings. Besides the sky launch, they were also well known for their ability to climb, making the air themed names suit them even more.

Megatronus, meanwhile, ran towards an opponent of his own; a lion that was still eating the first boy to die. He raised his sword, and brought it down, leaving a large gash in the front of the animals head, which stained it's gold fur red with blood. Still not enough to kill it, the beast jumped at Megatronus, mouth open.

The beast clamped its mouth down on the sword, determined to break through it and kill the boy holding it, but Megatronus held fast. With the handle in one hand, and the end of the blade in another, which cut through his skin and caused blood to run down his arm, though, the slave boy barely noticed it, he was able to make himself a shield of sorts between himself and the lion attacking him. However, a growling noise behind him alerted Megatronus to the second beast ready to attack him from behind.

As soon as the second lion jumped at him, Megatronus quickly leaped to the side, allowing the two beast to attack each other accidentally. On the downside, however, he had lost himself his sword, and the blood pouring from his open hand wound had attracted a good handful of the animals with it's smell.

A quick count told Megatronus that there were only seven lions left to kill. The twins had knocked off a decent number of them, while a few other beast had fallen at the hands of the other boys, trying their best to survive. Corpses of the boys littered the arena however, and Megatronus observed that if one lion drew a boys blood, a large number would join in on attacking him. But that worrisome discovery gave Megatronus an idea.

Running as fast as he could to the nearest lion, Megatronus quickly dodged the beast mouth, and smeared his blood stained hand across it's fur, leaving a red streak on its body, producing the aroma that many of the surrounding lions had wanted to sink their teeth into. The crazed, starved animals began to jump at their fellow lion, not caring about their cannibalism, since it gave them a decent meal. Seeing that idea worked, Megatronus began to smear as much of his blood as he could on any lion he came across, constantly moving and dodging their teeth. Some of the boys in the arena mimicked his tactics, either using the blood from their own injuries, or, for the ones who miraculously hadn't started to bleed yet, creating their own by slitting a sharp object of sorts across their hand in order to draw the blood necessary for the tactic.

The lions where going crazy as the smell of blood from multiple locations invaded their nose, and they began to lose track of weather the blood was coming from one of the boys, or a fellow beast, since so many of them had been smeared multiple times themselves. The drawing of blood, which only moments ago had sealed many of the boys fates as a dead man, was now becoming their means of survival.

The tactic worked miraculously. Many of the lions started attacking each other out of confusion, and eating their fellow creature anyways due to starvation. Whenever a lion was distracted by eating, the boys that had weapons were able to come over and kill them.

Megatronus ran from one of the last beast left, over to the place he had dropped his claymore. Picking it up in the hand that wasn't covered in blood, he stood his ground for a last defence against the beast. Swiftly, with precise aim, he managed to stick the blade in the creature's mouth, stabbing through the creatures head, and pulling back as soon as he could. Then, for extra caution, since the beast was still twitching and Megatronus didn't want to become it's breakfast by leaving it alive, he stabbed it multiple times other fatal places.

When he finally looked up from the creature he had just killed, he noticed that there were no more lions left, him having killed the last one. He was covered head to toe in blood, some of it his own, most of it from the lions themselves. He took a few deep breaths, as the smell of corpses invaded his nose. He whipped around a few times, looking at the remaining boys. A considerably smaller amount of people stood gathered in the pit. Many of the boys either screamed, or fell to their knees. Megatronus did neither. Instead, he continued to breath, the dawning realization that he lived unfolding in his mind. He lived. And so did the twins. The boy who had ran out of the circle the same time the second boy who died did had also lived. The remaining boys where strong, clever, and willing to abandon all their principles in order to stay alive. And Megatronus realized that it was only through sacrifice that he would ever be free of the life of a slave.

"I'm alive!" He shouted into the sky, unsure of who he wanted to hear it. Whether it be himself, or the other boys, or the Trainer, or even the God he so seldom believed in. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that he lived.

So Megatronus began to laugh. A powerful and joyus laugh, with tears of mirth streaming down his eyes, and his lungs begging for him to stop, and his ribs feeling like they were going to break. And all the boys looked at him in shock and fear, as he could somehow be joyous amongst the massive carnage. The dead bodies lay scattered, their aroma strong, as if trying to remind Megatronus of the tragedy that had just happened.

The large boy who once held no name continued to laugh.

* * *

 **Yep. Like I said. Gore.**

 **So, as anyone who's a fan of transformers knows, Megatronus eventually becomes Megatron, and then continues to fuck shit up evil mastermind style. My goal for the first act of this fic is to reasonably get him from the point of somewhat normal teen to villain. So far, I think I'm doing a pretty ok job. Though, I would like your guy's thoughts on it.**

 **That being said, I would really appreciate reviews. I love reviews. Like, I seriously value them with literally all my soul. Review. Please.**

 **I guess that's it. See you guys next Monday.**

 **~MotherUniverse signing out!**


	6. Chapter 4

**Hey hey hey! It's Monday, which means update day!**

 **In today's chapter, we're gonna be meeting some new characters. Since the last chapter was a bloody fight between a poor teen and a bunch of starving carnivores, this chapter is going to be a bit of a break from the angst. I hope that this chapter manages to be interesting. It's purpose is mostly to introduce new people, as well as develop the characters I've already got.**

 **So I guess, without further ado, on with the show!**

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Chapter 4

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The day he fought the lions, Megatronus developed a base principle; fight for your life, and sacrifice anything necessary in order to live. However, his young friend, who he had not forgotten about, despite the Trainers goal to make the slaves forget everything about their lives before they became gladiators, Orion Pax, had developed a different base principle, that was similar enough to Megatronus' principle to lead them to fight for the same cause, but different enough that the way they went about fighting for that cause differed dramatically, leading to their eventual conflict against each other. Orion developed his principle sometime after waking up in the medics bay after fainting from exhaustion and malnourishment the day he was forced to work all day on Alpha Trion's experiment without break for either food, water, or just plain rest.

When Orian began to wake up, he heard a voice he didn't recognize shouting at someone.

"I don't care if he's your slave!" The voice shouted. "He could be your test subject for all I care; you can't treat a child like that!"

The voice belonged to an obviously angry man, who Orion could make out a blurry outline of through partially open eyes. He found himself in a surprisingly comfortable bed, with an actual pillow, warm sheets, and he was dressed in a hospital nightgown that was certainly more comfortable than the burlap robes most slaves were given to dress in. There was a cold, wet cloth on his forehead, which felt nice against his heated forehead. His throat was still very dry, however, and he quietly moan out for water, hoping the doctor would hear him despite his quiet voice.

"I need to get this experiment done!" Shouted a voice that Orion did recognize. The voice of Alpha Trion "If I'm working, so is he!"

"But you were not working that day!" The other voice quickly responded, sounding angrier than Orion had ever heard a man sound before. "Yet you left him for exhaustion! You didn't give him any food the day before, and barely let him sleep, yet you still expected him to function without breakfast or _at least_ something to drink when you forced him to overwork himself!"

"I can do _twice_ the amount of work he does in a day in the same situation I put him in!" Trion argued back.

"You fragging, aft-brained, moron!" The doctor shouted back. Orion had never heard someone insult a member of the high council like that, no less add a Primian curse word to the insult. "You're immortal! You don't _need_ to worry about things like personal health! This boy is a _child_! A mortal, small, malnourished, traumatized! His family was murdered in order for him to get here! And only God knows what those knockups at the slave sails did to him! And even if he was lucky enough not to suffer abuse of some kind from their hands, he was still branded! You think he wouldn't have nightmares about that!? About any of that?!" Orion's vision began to clear a bit, and he was able to make out the doctors face, which was bright red with anger. "Did it ever cross that vainglorious brain of yours that _maybe,_ just _maybe_ , this child should be treated like a human being!? That _any_ of your 'slaves' should be treated like a human being!?"

"You dare use that tone of voice to a member of the high council!?" Trion snapped back, but Orion could tell he didn't have anything else to say.

"I _am_ a member of the high council, not to mention the head of medical affairs!" The doctor promptly responded with little hesitation. "Anything that involves the health of another citizen on Primas falls under _my_ authority, and I can say whatever the frag I want to whoever the frag I do please, if it means the difference between a _human beings_ life and death!"

Orion was finally able to see clearly. He could make out the shape of the doctor who was protesting in his favor. He was a somewhat short man, though not short enough that it would grate on his dignity, and he had long, white hair, which he wore in a braid, square glasses, and some white hair on his chin. His white hair had a few leftover carrot-red streaks, probably from before he started to grey. He had the look of a stubborn old man in his bright green eyes, with a vibe that screamed "Go ahead and make me angry! I dare you!"

"Water," Orion was finally able to mumble out. The angry doctor turned to the little boy in the hospital bed, his bitter emotions immediately leaving his eyes, being replaced with a look that reminded Orion of a grandfather.

"Hey, kid," He said with a smile, before grabbing a small cup of ice cubes, and dropping one into Orion's mouth. "Just let that melt a little. You've only been out for a few hours. I'll give you some food as soon as you seem stable enough,"

The cool liquid of the ice felt miraculous on Orion's tongue, and the melted water soon flowed down his throat, eliminating the dry feeling. "What happened," he spoke out, his voice raspy and quite.

"You collapse from over exhaustion," The doctor simply explained. "Alpha had invited me over for some brunch, when I found you unconscious in the lab. I took you to my house for care. Your going to need to rehydrate, have some food, and a lot of sleep before I let you go,"

"The water," Orion spoke out, remembering the pitcher he drank from in the lab that caused him to dry heave. "Master's lab water. I drank it,"

The doctor gave Trion a glare that could've board holes into his body. "You lab water?" He questioned.

"I had placed some chemicals in it earlier, for experimental purposes. I didn't think the boy would actually drink it," Trion tried to explain himself, hoping to avoid having the doctor yell at him again. As much as he hated to admit it, the doctor was a very intimidating person.

"Of course he drank it!" The doctor snapped, however, looking angry again. "You didn't give him any clean water to drink from!"

"Who are," Orion didn't finish the question. The amount of energy it took for him to speak was massive. But the doctor understood anyways.

"Doctor Ratchet," He told the boy. "But my friends just call me Ratchet. And what's your name?"

"Orion… Pax," Orion spoke out quietly.

"Well Orion, have no fear. Your in good hands," Ratchet replied calmly, with a smile that made Orion believe him.

A week later, Orion was released from the medical bay, though he was placed on work probation for the next two months. He had to eat three healthy meals a day, get as much sleep as possible, and do little work that either required standing, or required him to be around toxic fumes. This meant that Orion got to spend most of his time reading and learning, something he very much enjoyed.

Alpha Trion was watching the boy read, a festering feeling of guilt building up in his stomach. If it had been anyone else, any less honorable of a man, who lectured Alpha about how he treated his slaves, than he would've laughed in their face, and called out their hypocrisy. But instead, it was Ratchet, the newest member to the council of immortals, who had ran the hospital for a long time. And Ratchet was a good man. Nobody liked to be called out for their faults by a good man, and if they where, they had better try their best to fix their mistakes.

"Orion," Alpha said to the young boy, using his first name for the first time since the boy was sold to him. The young, small redhead peeked up from his book. Alpha Trion took a deep but quiet breath through his nose, and continued. "I've been thinking that my actions towards you may have been, well, inhuman," Orion looked at the old man curiously, biting back the snide comment he was thinking of saying. When the boy gave no response, Alpha Trion continued. "The way I was raised; I was raised to think that slaves were much like Energon, extendable forces of energy to be used. Clearly that is not the case, and I am ashamed to say it took the overexertion of my new lab assistant to see that,"

Orion shifted in his seat, saying nothing, unsure of what direction this conversation was supposed to be going. Without a word exchanged between the two people in the room for a long span of seconds, Alpha Trion finally spoke up.

"My point is," He said, "that I think I should start treating my slaves more like people, as Ratchet suggested,"

Orion nodded, unsure of what to say. "So, what now then?" He finally asked, supposing that it wouldn't be too great of a risk to ask questions.

"Well," Alpha Trion spoke, rocking back and forth from heel to toe. "I was thinking that maybe you would like a day to go out in the town. I know a store that sells pastries that you may like to eat at, and there are always plenty of kids your age at the park," Trion explained, before smiling. "So what do you say, Orion? Would you like a day to get out of this stuffy old house?"

Orion lept to claim the offer for two reasons. One was because he feared saying no to his master. The bigger reason, however, was that he hadn't been outside at all in the time he'd been working in Alpha Trion's mansion, since, between lab work, chores, studying, and sleep, he hadn't been able to go out to even the garden. The idea of going to a pastry shop or a park excited him, especially if it gave him a chance to see the streets of the famed island of Primus he had read about in his father's old library.

Soon enough, the two males where on the streets, Orion taking in the sights and Alpha Trion simply trying to remember the direction to the pastry shop they were supposed to be going to. Orion had been given proper clothing to wear for the day out, instead of the burlap sack most slaves wore, or the hospital gown he had kept with him as something comfortable to wear whenever he could get away with it. Now, he wore a proper cloak and tunic, as well as actual sandles on his feet. He was given a pair of thin, black gloves, in order to cover up the brand mark on his hands, allowing the young boy to walk around freely without the worry of getting harassed by slavers. Orion felt a rush of joy as he and Trion explored the streets, as he felt the wind on his face, the sun on his head, and the beautiful smell of fresh air, as aromas of flowers and foods filled his nose from the street vendors as the attempted to sell their things.

Orion began to wonder if his thankfulness over actually being let outside or treated like a human being should make him angry. It probably should, but he decided he could save the anger for later; he was finally getting some joy, he wasn't about to let it dissipate.

Alpha Trion guided him into one of the pastry shops, where an old woman sat at the counter, ready to give out the food to her customers.

"How do you do, Beta?" Trion asked the woman, tipping his hat.

"As fine as I can be, Alpha," The old woman, or Beta apparently, said back, a warm smile on her face. "And who is this young man?" She asked, looking towards Orion, the same warm smile plated onto her features.

When it appeared Alpha Trion was not about to answer for him, Orion felt a swell of joy at being able to tell the old woman his own name. "I'm Orion Pax," He said confidently, smiling at the woman.

"Orion," Beta hummed, testing out the name. "Well, Orion, what would you like to eat today?"

Orion looked at the variety of sweets in the display window. He finally settled on a large chocolate cookie, and some warm milk to go with it. The boy happily grabbed his food and started eating by the nearby window. Alpha Trion, meanwhile, hung back to talk to Beta.

"I didn't know you adopted," She said lightly, smiling at the red-haired boy consuming his cookie.

"No, I didn't adopt the boy," Trion corrected her. "He's actually that slave I told you about; the one who's helping me with my experiments,"

"He's your slave?" Beta whispered in surprise, keeping her voice down in order to keep Orion from listening in on the conversation the adults where having. "Why are you buying him sweets as if he where your friend?"

"The boy got sick earlier, and _Ratchet_ gave me a good lecture on treating slaves like humans," Trion explained. "I'd be a fool not to listen to the doctor,"

"Well, I'm all for treating a slave fairly," Beta told him, an edge to her voice suggesting that she was about to give her old friend a warning. "I treat my Arial in such a way; give her breaks between work, small wages for extra effort, and some decent clothes and sleeping quarters, but you can't make a slave think they are on equal footing with you. It will only end badly; all history suggest this,"

"I'm not giving the boy equal footing," Trion informed the old woman. "I'm just giving him a chance at having a good day. I have to say, even I am guilty for underestimating the importance of a slave's general happiness. While an average farm hand or houskeep can be replaced, slaves like Orion Pax are difficult to come by. I may never find someone like him again, so I have to keep him healthy. I assume your Arial is as important to your work as Orion is important to mine,"

"I've never met someone who could cook like she can," Beta confirmed, a spark of pride in her voice. "But I can keep her happy without allowing her to forget her place,"

Once Orion was done with the pastry, Alpha Trion guided him towards the park, where he would give the boy a chance to exercise a bit. The boy almost lit up upon seeing the sprawling greenery, and the small group of boys playing in the grass with a ball. Orion immediately ran up to watch them play.

One of the boys who was playing; a large, muscular boy with dark brown skin and short hair strung in dreads; eyed Orion at the edge of the playing field, and immediately smiled. "Hey! Our teams are even now!" He shouted to the other boys playing, before grabbing the ball and running up to the red-haired boy on the side. "You wanna play?"

"I don't know this game…" Orion mumbled hesitantly, suddenly feeling inadequate in front of the boy, whose hand lacked the brand mark of slavery.

"It's easy," The boy said with a shrug, either ignoring or not noticing Orion's discomfort. "You just try to get the ball to the other side of the field, and keep the other team from getting it across your side,"

Seemed simple enough. Even still, Orion wasn't sure how to interact around a free boy. The brand mark on his hand seemed to simmer, as if it was being burned into his skin all over again. The small boy took a deep but quiet breath through his nose, and tried to remember how he felt around other people _before_ he was subjected to slavery. He tried to re-kick those instincts that made him want to reach out to people, shoving away the new wall that had been forced in front of him. "Alright, I guess," Orion mumbled.

The dark skinned boy didn't need another word, and immediately grabbed Orion's gloved hand and pulled him onto the field, handing him the ball. "Start running!" He said, before taking off, leaving a confused Orion to try to figure out what he was doing.

Before he could register anything, a larger boy tackled him, before stealing the ball, and declaring "I got it!"

"Nope!" A boy on Orion's team immediately shouted, jumping on that boy, and the next thing Orion knew, he was being shoved into a tackle pile as twenty or so boys began to wrestle each other for the ball, which was proving ineffective. Using his small size to squeeze between crevices, Orion was able to get himself on the pile of kids.

Suddenly the ball was at his feet. He turned to see the dark skinned boy who had invited him into the game squeezing himself out of the pile. "Get it to the other side!" He shouted.

Orion picked up the ball and started running. He wasn't that fast of a kid, but considering the other team had to wedgie themselves out of a tackle pile in order to go after him, Orion had a pretty good head start. His legs pumped and his breath wore ragged, as he ran through the pain of exertion. But this pain wasn't the feeling of starvation and tiredness, as he tried to work despite having no fuel to run on. This was the pain he felt when he would play games with his brother's in the park, or would chase their cat whenever she got out of the house. This was the feeling of adrenaline, and building stamina, something Orion hadn't had a chance to feel in a long time. It had been so long since he had the chance to just run!

Finally, he crossed the batch of twigs and sticks the boys had used to mark the end of the playing field. The moment he stopped running, he felt his legs give out, and he fell face first into the dirt. He didn't pass out however, which was good.

The other kids playing surrounded him, looking down. "You alright?" The boy who had invited him into the game asked.

Orion struggled to catch his breath, feeling his legs continue to painfully pump even though he stopped moving. His body felt sore. But his mind felt better than it ever had since he lost his family, and was forced into the slave-boat.

Orion cracked a goofy smile, laughing. "I really need to get in better shape!" He joked.

The rest of the boys laughed with him, the dark-skinned boy pulling him up to his feet, and offering him a supportive arm when Orion nearly fell over again. "How long's it been since you had a good run?" He questioned, jokingly.

Orion shrugged. "Awhile. I might sit this next round out,"

The boy laughed, his chest making rapid contractions as he did so. "I won't blame you. I'm Ironhide, by the way,"

Orion must have shown his confusion over the boy's name, because Ironhide decided to explain it. "My parents are miners, and miners have this weird tradition of giving their kids names that sound tough. What's your name?"

"Orion," The smaller boy simply replied, deciding not go give his last name if Ironhide hadn't given his. "Nice to meet you," He held out his gloved hand for a shake.

Ironhide slapped his hand across Orion's open palm twice, before giving it a firm shake. "Likewise,"

Orion silently wondered if the nameless boy he befriended would like Ironhide or Ratchet. He probably would, Orion concluded. After all, the two would soon be fighting the same battle, and young Orion Pax had come to the self-conclusion that battles where only worth the fight if there was someone he was fighting for.

He would gladly fight any battle if it was for his friends.

* * *

 **Yay! Friendship chapter!**

 **So, what I want to do with most of the adult characters, especially the really old ones who've been raised in a slave culture, is to make them good people who don't know that slavery is wrong. Alpha Trion for example; if he was raised in modern day society, he'd wholeheartedly disagree with the principles of slavery, but since he was raised in a society that is built on slave culture, he doesn't see anything wrong with that. As time marches forwards, people learn, so obviously Ratchet, the younger of the two men, would have more of a problem with the slave culture society.**

 **Other than that, we've got a few more characters introduce. Ratchet, our favorite grumpy old medic, who usually needs every item that gets broken. Ironhide, a good friend of Orions, who will be pretty relevant for the upcoming chapters. Beta, who's in the same boat as Alpha Trion when it comes to her views on slave culture. And I know in cannon she's a clerk, but I wanted an old-lady-who-sells-the-cookies character and I didn't feel like making an OC for that part. I will have a few OC's when I need them, but they won't be that relevant to the plot. And finally, we've got the name Arial, hinting to the eventual arrival of a certain "friend" of Orions ;)**

 **I know I said that nobody was born yet, but I'm gonna rephrase that. Not everyone is born yet. Some are, some are not. And some I wasn't planning to be born yet, but just couldn't resist putting them in. Aka Ratchet.**

 **I've got a few written chapters for this story in my databank. Two finished, one halfway through. In other words, the first act will be done in another five or six chapters. Which is a long time respectively, but I'm proud of myself for actually getting finished with an act, since I have a bad habit of starting a story and never finishing it.**

 **That being said, I've put hot coals under my butt, and intend to either finish this story or sell my soul to Satan. The later option is not appealing, so I'm gonna work on this story until it's finished.**

 **Though, that being said, this thing is gonna be** _long_ **. But what's the fun without a challenge?**

 **Edit: I realized I forgot to add an important detail; Orion wears gloves to cover his brand mark whenever he goes outside. The purpose of this is to keep street slavers off his back. They comprise of bored college-age kids, who are supposed to deal with slaves that break the law, but bored college-age boys usually end up causing trouble, so...**

 **~Mother Universe signing out**


	7. Chapter 5

**Hey! It's Monday, which means it's update day!**

 **I gotta admit, I somewhat disturbed myself while writing this chapter. And that's saying something. I've written full-out torture scenes and didn't blink an eye, but I had to watch cat video's after writing this chapter to cleanse my soul.**

 **That being said, this chapter will be somewhat heavy on the gore side, as well as some phycological torment. You have been warned. The character developement of Megatronus is a crucial one, and this chapter is all about his character.**

 **And without further ado, on with the show!**

* * *

Chapter 5

* * *

Of the 50 new boys that had been taken into the Gladiator pits, only seventeen survived the lions. Because of a rainstorm, the tournament was pushed back a week, giving the gladiators extra time to train. During the week building up to the tournament, the seventeen surviving boys, along with the veterans, underwent intense training intervals, bodily health rituals, and strategy reviews. The Trainer wanted the slaves in his company to be in peak condition, and if Megatronus was honest, he couldn't agree more. Any little bit helped. He wasn't going to die in the tournament the next day.

Megatronus had quickly became a favorite topic within the gossip of the company faculty, as well as the town community. Famous for standing over the corpses of lions and fellow slaves alike, and laughing. Talk of the new warrior flew around the town. He was Megatronus, the boy who laughed in the face of death, merciless and courageous, fearsome and sadistic. And yet the boy who used be nameless could say that more than half of the rumors spread about him were untrue.

So Megatronus sat quietly in the room he now shared with his new team members. The teams were made of four members, holding a mix of veterans and new boys alike. They had recently been assigned to each other and were given the night before the tournament to get to know each other, and discuss battle strategies.

The team Megatronus got himself stuck on consisted of the twins, Skyquake and Dreadwing, along with the veteran in the weird mask who had stood next to him in line the day he fought the lions. Through a varied number of sources, Megatronus figured out that the veteran's name was Soundwave. The irony of the name was that the man never talked. Ever. Whether it was because he was mute or just plain out refused to talk, Megatronus wasn't sure. Either way, it was certainly creepy, the way the tall and lanky man just stood there staring at them, with his eyes barely visible under the mask. So, with his team being made up of two thirteen-year-old's, and a man who never talked, leadership just sorta fell to him. _Perfect_ , Megatronus grumbled inside his head. _Because I'm_ so _qualified for this job._

"I heard that some of the gladiators are fifteen feet tall!" Dreadwing spoke out, obviously terrified at the thought.

Megatronus simply rolled his eyes. Not like the twins were not good warriors or anything, but Megatronus was personally hoping he _wouldn't_ have to deal with little kids on his team. "Nobody's that tall, kid," Megatronus assured him. "The worst we'd probably get is around 6'9,"

"I guess that's not as bad," Dreadwing hummed. "I was just hoping I'd live until adulthood,"

"If you don't mind me asking," Megatronus spoke up, "How did you end up at the Pit?"

"We were born slaves," Dreadwing hummed. "We worked on the farmlands out in the southern end of the island practically all our lives, then a storm destroyed the farm, and we took to the streets. But we were caught by slave hunters. They got a pretty big bounty for us too, considering our size,"

"And long story short, we were sold to this fraggin slag-house," Skyquake summed up.

"Well, that's fucked up," Megatronus hummed out loud.

"What the scrap is 'fuck'?" Skyquake questioned.

"Oh, it's a curse word from where I came from. Seems the people on this island use different shit,"

Dreadwing gave him a scrutinizing look. "And shit is?"

"Basically our waist," Megatronus explained.

"So it's pretty much 'slag'" Skyquake summed up.

"Yep. And 'fuck' is basically 'frag', but I have no clue what 'scrap' is supposed to mean," Megatronus elaborated.

"We just say it whenever something slag-sucking happens,"

Megatronus shrugged. "Different place, different curse words," He concluded. "I'm assuming you guys never had names,"

Skyquake laughed. "If Slave #62 counts as a name,"

"I guess you wouldn't know how to read then," Megatronus sighed, disappointed. He was hoping that maybe, since they were farmhands, there was a chance they were able to secretly teach themselves.

"Nope," Both twins said simultaneously. "But we always wanted to learn," Dreadwing continued, smiling.

"Maybe Soundwave knows how to read," Skyquake suggested hopefully.

All three boys turned their head to the one veteran in the room. The lanky man simply stared back at them, saying nothing, before slowly nodding his head.

"You read?!" Megatronus stood up in excitement. "You've got to teach us!"

The silent man shook his head.

"Why not!?" The teen shouted, trying to repress his anger. After all, his hope wasn't there for long, it wasn't worth getting upset over.

Soundwave said nothing, making no movements, or indicating that he was going to bother explaining. After a few seconds of sitting under Megatronus' angry glare and desperate plead, the man simply stood up, walked over to his bed, and laid down.

The three boys exchanged looks, before deciding that it would be in their best interest to get some sleep as well. They would be facing hell the next day.

* * *

There were approximately 367 gladiators currently in The Pit Gladiator company. Were. After the preliminary round, where the teams would face different animals, there where only 332 members left. Some of the people who died where new boys, but a surprising amount of veterans had also lost their lives. Lucky for Megatronus, no members of his team died. Their opponent was a large, and rather quick snake, but once the he and the twins managed to pin it down, Soundwave was able to cut it's head off. Fighting the lions had been harder. Through, the large amounts of screaming people in the crowd didn't help the gladiators focus.

The team, who had been dubbed Pit #5 by the Trainer, sat off in the wings, watching the first two teams go up to fight each other. Their fellow gladiators wore brass helmets, gauntlets, and boots, with leather kilts wrapped around their waist, as well as red fabric, indicating their company. The opposing team wore something similar, except they wore blue fabric.

The moment the bell rang, signaling them to fight, the gladiators took off from the dirt. Only moments after movement, waves of blood flew through the air, as metal pierced through flesh. The slaughter fest was grisly, but Megatronus didn't look away. If he couldn't take the gore now, how was he going to survive the battlefield?

Teams went in and out, and Megatronus was barely even able to keep track of who died and who didn't. He watched as a veteran he knew got his skull crushed by another player. At least his death was quick. His teammate spend a while running with an arm cut off before finally being beheaded and put out of his pain.

Dreadwing had thrown up. Skyquake was able to keep his stomach contents down, but he had his eyes covered the entire battle. Soundwave simply sat, unmoving. Megatronus assumed it was because, being a veteran, he had already seen these things. The boy himself was struggling to hold his meal down, but he was determined to save all the puking and sobbing that he felt like doing until after the tournament was done, when those things wouldn't be a risk to his life. He could only pray that the twins vivid reactions to the slaughter fest would not hinder their ability to fight. One mistake and their pitifully short lives would end.

For whatever reason, Megatronus began to wonder if Orion Pax was in a better situation than he was.

All too soon, his team was called up to the field.

Megatronus stood in a straight line with his team, the twins on one side, and Soundwave on another. He could feel his legs shake, staring at the opponents, who were all around his size and armed to the teeth. The carcases of the previous round had been cleaned up, though the metallic smell of blood and rotting fragrance of flesh still continued to linger. Not enough clean-up in the world could take the filth of death down from the air.

Three of the four members of the other team where the standard Gladiator type; tall, muscular, probably somewhere in their late twenties. However, Megatronus' attention was drawn to the fourth member.

He was considerably shorter than the rest of his team, and through the holes in his helmet, Megatronus was able to spot the features of a young face. He couldn't have been older than fourteen. The acid in Megatronus' stomach began to boil, threatening to pop out and spit up. He was a child. And they were going to have to kill him. And to top it all off, his pale skin, red hair, and freckled face reminded Megatronus too much of the young friend he met on the slave ship, what felt like a lifetime ago.

The bell rang.

Immediately, the child ran towards Megatronus to square up. It was a logical choice, seeing as both Soundwave and the twins were taller than him, though he still managed to tower over the kid. The ring of metal clashing against metal sounded as the little boy's sword clashed against his. For his youth, the kid managed to be a _very_ capable fencer.

Megatronus knew he could beat the child easily if he tried. He had the highest advantage, and no matter how good this kid was at swordsmanship, he stood no chance against an opponent who was bigger than him in pretty much every way. But with each clank of the sword, the boy screamed out in a frightened voice of a boy who hadn't even reached puberty yet. How was Megatronus supposed to kill this little kid?

Soon enough, he found his back towards the wall. The little boy's sword shot forwards, and so did Megatronus'. The boys sword hit the wall, inches from the teens face. The boy himself however, found the sword stuck all the way through his gut, and out his back. His blood dropped in heaps, and his body simply slid off, landing on the dirt, while his eyes lost their life.

Megatronus killed him.

He killed this boy.

This poor, little boy, who stood no chance against him.

He killed him, because he could.

He could kill the boy, so he did.

The boy was trying to kill him. So he killed the boy. He could kill the boy, and the boy couldn't kill him. It was simple as that.

The boy had to die. If he didn't die, then Megatronus wouldn't have survived.

Yes. It was alright. So what he killed the little boy? He was alive. That was all that mattered.

Wasn't it?

Like he did the day he killed the lions, Megatronus started laughing. There was no joy in this laughter. Just pain. Pain, and the refusal to break down in tears. Pain, and the refusal to shut down. Pain, and the refusal to die.

And so he didn't.

* * *

The rest of the round went by in a blurr. Megatronus remembered that at some point, he might have killed someone else, but all he could really remember was the smell of the little boy's corpse, his dead stare, and the sound of Megatronus' own laughter. But the details didn't matter. He survived. And so did Soundwave. And so did the Twins. They all lived. And the members of the other team all died. It was him, or them. His life or their lives. They chose their lives, he chose his. They both battled for their own lives. He won.

It was all so incredibly, painfully, simple.

The moment the team exited the arena and into the waitroom, Skyquake immediately fell to his knees, the contents of his stomach shooting up his throat and splattering on the ground. The boy continued to heave, spitting up acid and bile, then continued to dry-heave when he had nothing left to vomit. He shook his head wildly, while he struggled to catch his breath. "I can't do this! I can't do this!" He shouted, before he continued to dry-heave some more.

His twin, on the other hand, had taken to leaning on the wall, his hands on his head, bracing it, his eyes wide with absolute terror. "The blood," He spoke out quietly, his voice pitched at an eerily high octave. "He had so much blood. I didn't mean to make it come out! I didn't mean to!"

Soundwave casually strolled over to the direction of the break room where the resting gladiators could have some refreshments, and wash themselves off.

"Come on," Megatronus hummed, calmly and quietly, as he picked Skyquake off the ground, supporting the large boy on his shoulder. "We should get washed off before the next round,"

Though it was a bit of a struggle, Megatronus managed to guide both the traumatized twins towards the showers.

Megatronus had been amazed that the island of Primus managed to make itself a plumbing system that actually sprayed water from shower heads. Even more amazing was that, unlike the water at the auction houses, the water at the pits was heated.

He watched the blood wash off his body and fell down the drain. The red liquid stank like iron, and made the surrounding air feel thick, and choking. Some of this blood belonged to the little boy he killed. The boy had to kill him, or he would've died. Megatronus had to kill the boy, or it would be _him_ who died. He killed the boy. He lived. The little boy did not. The twins where traumatized. They had either killed or helped to kill their opponents. They would be wracked with guilt, and drowning in the horrors they saw. But they were alive too. Megatronus looked at the blood washing off his body, landing at his feet, and washed down the drain. The slave without a name; who was given the name Megatronus after a legendary war monger; who proved himself worthy of that name by surviving; let himself smile. Survival was a noble cause. He would have to kill more people; that was just the way his life was going to be. And he would kill those people so that he could live. And if they managed to kill him, they would live. But he couldn't let that happen. They had to die. They had to die so he could live. And he would live. He would live by taking the lives of others. He would live by giving up his soul.

They died. He lived. He could kill them, and they couldn't kill him.

After washing himself off, Megatronus met up with the twins at the lounge, and simply sat besides them. Soundwave was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn't much of a surprise. For a while, the three boys said nothing. Finally, Skyquake spoke up;

"How are you so calm?" He asked his older teammate.

"What?" Megatronus questioned, hoping for clarification.

"How are you still ok?" The thirteen-year-old clarified. "You just killed someone. How are you acting as if nothing happened?"

Megatronus shrugged, not quite sure of his own reasoning, or if it would even make sense spoken out loud. "We lived, our opponents died. If our opponents lived, _we_ would be the ones who died. By killing our enemies, we saved our own lives. And we're going to have to continue saving our own lives as long as we're gladiators. We're just gonna have to get used to this,"

Soundwave came and sat down with his team. He had an empty cup in his hands, so Megatronus assumed he had left to drink his water, apparently being concerned enough about people seeing beneath his mask that he went to drink alone. Megatronus began to wonder if the lanky man next to him had broken down the same way the twins did, and the same way that Megatronus was struggling not to, the first time he killed somebody. But the man was a veteran. He had probably long since learned to deal with it.

* * *

When the first round's where over, the members of Pit #5 where able to discover who lost and who won. The company had 18 teams left after the preliminary round, while the other company had 24. Due to having 6 teams without competitors, the opposing company got six extra points. Meanwhile, of the 18 teams, the Pit lost six teams, while the opposite team lost twelve. This left both teams with 12 points, leaving them all tied up, holding the same number of remaining teams.

The next round would be doubles. Each team would select two members to fight the next round. It cut the losses from each company, but often left team members bickering over who would go fight to their death next.

For Pit #5, or Pit #4 now, since Pit#2 was slaughtered, leaving all the teams to move up a number, the choice was obvious; the twins were still struggling to keep themselves together after their brawl with the previous team, and Megatronus knew better than to shove traumatized thirteen-year-olds into a fight to the death. As much as he hated the idea of going back out and fighting again, the seventeen-year-old knew he stood a much better chance at survival than the twins did. Besides, he had Soundwave; a veteran who had battled himself through more tournaments than Megatronus would ever want to fight through.

The first team lost miserably, their life leaving their bodies mere seconds after the bell rang. _I guess we're now Pit #3_. Megatronus thought to himself.

The second team managed to win, though the battle was close. The third team also won, but one of the two members was killed. Megatronus swallowed down the dread that threatened to spill out his throat and throughout his body, burying it someplace where it wouldn't disturb him. He grabbed the claymore he usually used as a weapon, along with a shield. Like he did last battle, Soundwave grabbed a barbed-wire whip, along with a small dagger. They stepped onto the battlefield.

Megatronus would live. His opponents would die. He would kill them. He would kill them so that he could live. They would die so he wouldn't have to.

Lucky for him, their opponents were just standard gladiators. Both where big, muscular, but they where both shorter than him. He saw them whisper to each other and point towards Soundwave, probably planning on targeting him. Soundwave may have been taller than Megatronus, but the man was lanky, and skinny, and it was obvious which of the two had more muscle.

Megatronus felt Soundwave place something into his hand. Curious, the teen looked down and saw two individual cotton balls. He turned towards his teammate in confusion, but the silent man simply pointed to his ears. Unsure what to do, Megatronus placed them inside his ears.

Everything was quite. The shouting of the crowds sounded like quiet whispers. A gentle ring sounded above the whispering, and his opponents began to run forwards. That must have been the bell.

Suddenly, a strange sound was heard above the crowds. It sounded like a scream. It was loud, and even with the cotton balls, it sounded irritating. For the people without shielding for their ears, the sound hit the pain level, and Megatronus watched the opposing teams double over in pain, holding their hands to their ears to block out the sound. After turning to his partner, it suddenly occurred to Megatronus where the sound was coming from.

 _So that's why they call him Soundwave_.

A second occurance came to Megatronus, and that was the realization that he would have to kill the two men they were fighting. If only Soundwave actually bothered to tell him the strategy! Clearly he still had vocal cords, if he could scream like that! Why didn't he tell the team what he was planning to do? Megatronus was prepared to kill those men in a fight to the death, but to murder them while they were incapacitated seemed cruel.

The screams stopped for barely a second before Soundwave built up another gasp of breath and began to scream again. This would be an easy victory. But it was wrong, cruel even. It was one thing to kill an opponent in battle. But this…

If they were not incapacitated, their opponents would be trying to kill them. Megatronus would have to fight for his life. If he killed these men while they could barely stand due to the sheer strength of Soundwaves deadly vocal cords, he wouldn't be killing them without reason. Either they died, or Soundwave would run out of strength, allowing them to engage in propper battle. But Soundwave would be exhausted. He would likely die. And Megatronus couldn't beat two men on his own. Well, maybe he could, but he didn't want to risk it.

With a swift stab to the neck, the first man fell to the ground, his life fading away as his blood poured out. The teen spent a moment realizing that he made him die slowly. In order to make it quick, he stabbed him a second time, this time through the temple and out the other side of his head. He did the same movement for the other man, who was struggling to fight back, fighting through his pain to pick up his sword, but it was futile.

The moment the two men died, Soundwave stopped screaming, the only indication that he ever started screaming in the first place was the rapid up-and-down motion of his chest. Megatronus looked down at his bloodied sword, and the two dead bodies at his feet. He barely got a good look at their faces. One of them, the man he stabbed in the throat, looked only a little older than himself. Megatronus was alive. He was alive because they died. He could leave the battlefield now.

* * *

Megatronus wasn't sure how many hours he had spent puking up his guts, but it must have been awhile, since the twins had come in and told them that the tournament was over, the Pit won, and Soundwave survived the single's match. Megatronus nodded, wiping the bile off his chin, and walked out of the bathroom.

"There's a celebration in the common room," Skyquake told him, "But brother and I are going to our room,"

"I think I'm gonna join you two," Megatronus responded, and the three teens started walking away together.

The moment Megatronus' head his his pillow, he fell asleep, surprisingly enough. The entire day exhausted him. Both physically and emotionally. He was now a killer. Guilty for three deaths. One of a young boy. Two of men left defenseless. He wasn't surprised that he kept waking up from nightmares all throughout the night.

But the strangest dream he had was one where the little red haired boy he met on the slave ship. Little Orion Pax. In this dream, Megatronus was chasing Orion, the child frequently asking what he was. Not even _who_ , but _what_. Megatronus tried to answer. Tried to tell the young friend of his that he was the unnamed boy who promised he would see him again. The boy would deny it, and continued to ask; " _What are you? What are you?"_

Megatronus stopped in front of what looked like a river, and caught his reflection. He barely recognize his own self. He felt like himself; normal Megatronus. Tall and muscular seventeen-year-old who was born a slave and didn't receive a name until he became a gladiator. But in the water reflection, he saw something else. A monster, covered in the blood and flesh of the people he killed.

"What are you?" Orion asked again, shaking with fear.

"What are you? What are you? What are you? What are you? What are you?"

Megatronus couldn't say. He didn't know. Looking down at his hands, he saw the hands he had always seen. But observing his hands in the reflection of the water, he saw the bloodied hands of a killer.

"What am I?"

* * *

 **Yep. Lovely chapter huh?**

 **So, I guess review. I don't have much else to say. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. At least somewhat. But I guess that's it.**

 **~MotherUniverse signing out!**


	8. Chapter 6

**And today is update day! Yay!**

 **So, this chapter is centered around Orion, and it's mostly about character development. This is the first chapter that an OC of mine will be introduced, but I think she's somewhat necessary. Her name is Stargazer, and she's Ironhide's mother. I hope you like her.**

 **In this chapter, there will be some triggering stuff, such as abuse, and a case of PTSD on Orion's part. Just giving you guys a heads up.**

 **And without further ado, on with the show!**

* * *

Chapter 6

* * *

Orion's schedule mostly consisted with lab assistance, with three breaks for meals, and a general average of five minutes an hour of unscheduled breaks to either stretch his legs, go to the bathroom, or read. Whenever Alpha Trion didn't work, Orion didn't have to, which gave him some relief. Ever since getting lectured by Ratchet, both Orion and the other slaves of Alpha Trion's house were regularly getting better treatment, and the other slaves were genuinely happy about the liking the old doctor had taken to the young boy.

Today, Trion had to go to a high council meeting, so the entire staff of the house, slave and servant alike, got the day off, and where allowed to go out and to whatever they liked. For Orion, this ment going to the park to play with Ironhide and his friends.

He slipped on his robes and cloak, as well as his sandals and gloves, before walking down to the park. He had memorized the route to the place, so finding it was easy. However, when he got to the park, he found that the only boy there was Ironhide, and while the boy was his closest friend, he was hoping to play a team game.

"Orion!" The larger boy called, picking up the ball he had been playing with and giving the red-haired boy a wave. Orion jogged over, a smile on his face.

"How come I don't see you that often?" The dark-skinned boy asked.

Orion hesitated, trying to think of an excuse that wouldn't let the boy find out he was a slave. There was a large social gap between the slaves and free people, and while he didn't think Ironhide would mind, he didn't want the boy to get into trouble. "I've got a job," Orion quickly said, somewhat quietly, while he avoided looking his taller friend in the eye.

"Must be some job," Laughed Ironhide, before lightly tossing the ball to him. "Let's play some catch,"

The two young boys spent an hour tossing the ball back and forth to each other, each throw getting more ridiculous by the moment. The game ended when they threw the ball into the bird bath, and an upset park manager confiscated it.

"I paid for that!" Ironhide shouted at the manager, who didn't even look back at the two boys as he walked away with their ball. "Scrap," The tall boy muttered, with what could only be described as a pout. He then perked up, seeming to have gotten an idea, before turning to Orion and roughly punching him in the shoulder.

"Tag! Your it!" He shouted, before running away from the smaller boy, laughing maniacally.

"Not for long!" Orion declared, laughing as well, while he chased after his friend.

The two boys chased each other across the park, Orion having a difficult time keeping up with Ironhide due to his shorter legs and inferior athletic ability. His legs pumped hard, while the wind whipped his skin, but the small boy was determined to keep up, for no other reason than friendly competitiveness. Every so often, Ironhide would look back and smile, seeing that Orion couldn't possibly catch up.

The two boys eventually came to the incline of a large hill, that separated the park from the market square. Ironhide started to race down it, using the incline as acceleration. The larger boy held more endurance in himself than Orion did, and soon the small redhead had to stop, hyperventilating from lack of breath. However, he saw an old piece of bark in the dirt, which was covered with wet moss, giving him an idea that could provide him the edge he needed.

Ironhide looked back to see his smaller friend sliding down the hill, sitting on a large piece of bark, quickly catching up, much to the boys dismay. Much to his embarrassment, Ironhide let out a loud scream, before turning red with the realization that he just made that sound with his mouth. Soon enough, however, Orion was right on his tail.

The small boy tried to stand up on his makeshift sled, in order to reach out and tag his bigger friend, but the bark instead slid out from under his feet, leaving Orion to tumble down the hill. He crashed into Ironhide, and the two boys went tumbling down together. Some point along the way, Orion lost the glove that covered up his brand mark, but neither boy noticed.

The two crashed through a fruit stand as they landed at the bottom of the hill, with Orion landing on top of Ironhide. The two boys reached, their breath at a loss. Still, they tried to laugh, but often ended up choking on silent gasp of glee due to their shortened breath.

Suddenly, a woman screamed, and a set of large men wearing the uniforms of a slaver grabbed onto both Orion and Ironhide, pulling them apart.

"You're under arrest for the assault of a free boy, and the crime of absquatulation," One of the men snapped at him.

"Absquatulation!?" Ironhide snapped, both confused and angered at the actions the slavers had taken against his friend. "What the frag are you talking about?"

"Did this slave boy hurt you in any way?" Asked the head slaver, with a false cover of kindness across his words.

"I heard him scream before he crashed in here!" The owner of the fruit stand shrilled.

"But it wasn't, I was..." He didn't know if he could explain himself and his friend out of the situation, but free boy still held firm. "We were just playing, he didn't assault me! And he's not a slave; you can't throw him around like one!"

"His hand says different,"

Orion's branded hand was forced out from his body by the men's arms. Orion watched as Ironhide's eyes widened, a look of horror on his face. The look made Orion break down in tears.

"But, wait," Ironhide spoke out, almost in shock. "If he… if he," The boy swallowed, and then ran off, pushing through the crowds and soon fading into the distance.

Orion felt his heart shatter. He had been spending his months and slavery fading in and out of the reality of his situation. But now, it was kicking him in the gut; He was a slaves. Slaves didn't have friends. They didn't have rights. They were like the dust under the feet of the free people; their fate left to which direction they were kicked in. And much to his horror, we was kicked into the direction of the whipping post.

Slaves were rarely executed, since it was considered a waist to simply kill them. The island may have been well-populated, but they were still a small place compared to other countries, so the citizens of Primas wanted to keep their human resources alive. However, the more frequent punishment the whipping post.

Orion himself had never been whipped. He'd received beatings, and as much as he wanted to, he could never forget what that one slaver did to him at the auction house. But he was never at the receiving end of a whip. Not until now at least.

He was completely stripped of his clothes. The air was warm, but suddenly he felt cold, the sweat dripping down his body felt like water. He began to scream himself horse, feeling absolutely helpless. He called out to his mother, his father, his brothers, anyone who could've helped him. Nobody would. His family was dead, and nobody would help a slave.

"Please! Please! Don't touch me!" He screamed out, fighting against the slaver's hold, desperately trying to reach his clothes, wanting something to cover his exposed body back up. His fighting was useless, and he felt ashamed for it. If only he was big! Then maybe he could've just died with his family.

They shoved him into a pole, back to the crowd, and hands chained onto the other side of it. The old wood dug splinters into his skin, but he shoved himself closer into it anyways, hoping to bury himself in the rotting wood. The splinters where better than getting touched again. Anything would be better than that.

The feeling of fire suddenly struck his naked back, while some voice shouted out "one!". The fire struck again. "Two".

"Three". The leather whip struck against his skin, his threatening to break it. "Four! Five! Six!"

"Seven!" His skin finally cracked, a slash opening up, his blood beginning to drip down his back.

"Eight!" More skin was opened, while the smell of iron and broken flesh mixed with the stank of the crowd and the musty mold on the wood.

"Nine!" One more wound was opened, while a previous wound deepened as it hit across it.

"Ten!"

"Eleven!"

"Twelve!"

"Thirteen!"

"Forteen!"

"Fifteen!"

"Sixteen!"

"Seventeen!" His voice cracked, as his screams became silent, as he lost his voice. Everything was pain.

"Eighteen!"

"Nineteen!"

"Twenty!"

"Twenty-one!"

"Twenty-two!" His vision began to turn red, as the sounds faded out.

"Twenty-three!"

"Twenty-four!"

"Twenty-five!"

"Twenty-six!"

"Twenty-seven!"

"Twenty-eight!"

"Twenty-nine!"

"Thirty!"

"Thirty-one!"

"Thirty-two!"

"Thirty-three!"

"Thirty-four!"

"Thirty-five!"

"Thirty-six!"

"Thirty-seven!"

"Thirty-eight!"

"Thirty-nine!"

"Forty!"

"Forty-one!"

"Forty-two!"

"Forty-three!"

"Forty-four!"

"Forty-five!"

"Forty-six!"

"Forty-seven!"

"Forty-eight!"

"Forty-nine!"

"Fifty!"

* * *

By the time Orion regained conscious, the sun was setting, and the crowds around the whipping post had left. He was slumped against the wood, his bleeding back exposed to the air, and his hands still tied to the front of the post.

He heard the noise of footsteps approaching him, causing a course of fear to flow down his body. He could somewhat make out a pair of brown boots in the orange light.

The ropes around his wrist where cut, and he felt his cloak being wrapped around his naked body. He immediately felt much safer.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get back sooner," Said a voice that he recognized. _Ironhide_. "I didn't know what to do, but I knew my mama would. So I ran off to get her. I probably should've told you before ditching you, but I kinda panicked. Sorry, Orion,"

Orion began to sob. Not from pain or sadness, — well, a little bit from pain and sadness — but from overwhelming joy at the fact that his friend hadn't abandoned him. Hadn't ran away. Hadn't left him because he was a slave.

He was lifted up by a pair of slender but strong arms, and soon found himself placed on the back of a tall woman, who shared the same dark skin and dreadlocks as her son did.

"It's alright, baby," She whispered in a soothing voice; the voice his mother would use whenever she comforted him after he got hurt. "We're gonna take you home and heal you up. It's a long walk to our house, but you'll be ok,"

"Mama's pretty good with a medical kit," Ironhide told his smaller friend, squeezing the boys hand as they walked to his house; the hand that held the brand mark. "Your gonna be alright. I promise,"

When the small group got to Ironhide's house, his mother, who's name he found out was Stargazer, placed him onto their kitchen table. It was a one-roomed house, with a kitchen on the left side of the room, and a living room on the right. The living room had one old-looking couch, a fireplace, and two beds; one that could fit two people, though barely, and a small bed where Ironhide probably slept. She laid him down on his stomach, and laid his cloak over his legs and hips to keep him covered, before going to his back.

Orion Pax had been given fifty lashes. The skin on his back was practically peeled off, only hanging on in strips. His dried blood, exposed flesh, and scabs mixed together, giving his back the look of a butchered animal.

"You poor baby," Stargazer muttered under her breath. She grabbed a bucket, and went outside to fill it with water from the outside pump, and came back in. She grabbed a cloth from the kitchen rack, dipped it into the water, and wiped his back down. Orion shivered a bit.

"Sorry, baby," She told him. "I know our water's cold, but it's all we've got. It's gonna sting, but your gonna have to stay strong, alright?"

Orion slowly nodded. The walk to Ironhide's house gave him time to shake the delerium from his head, but he didn't have enough energy to think much. Ironhide pulled up a chair in front of him, and squeezed his hands.

"You should've told me you where a slave," Ironhide scolded, though his voice held no resentment, just regret and concern. "If I knew, I would've been more careful about our activities and stuff,"

"I didn't…" Orion choked out, tears beginning to drip out of his eyes once again. "I couldn't…"

Ironhide simply placed his forehead against Orions, in a comforting motion of affection. "Your fine, Orion, your fine," He told him quietly. "I just got scared, alright? When I saw that you where a slave, I realized that no matter what either you or I said, you'd still be taken to the whipping post. I'm sorry I made you think I was abandoning you,"

Orion just sobbed, using his dwindling strength to wrap his arms around his friend. Ironhide, too, began to sob. "I'm sorry, Orion. I'm sorry. I should've been more careful,"

Stargazer shifted her gaze from the back she was trying to patch up to the presence of the heavy emotions coming from both her son and his friend. She gave them a sad smile. "Baby, it's neither of your faults," She told them, turning back to continue her cleaning. "Those slavers gotta be monster's to do something like this to another human being. A child especially,"

Once she was done rinsing his back with water, Stargazer went over to the alcohol cabinet, and selected the drink with the least amount of toxins. She poured the liquid into a wooden cup, selected a different cloth, dipped it into the alcohol, and carefully placed on one of the gashes on his back. Orion gasped out in pain, as a stinging sensation burned throughout his body.

"I'm sorry, baby, it's gonna sting, but I need to clean it out," She told the boy, before once again going in with the alcohol. Ironhide grabbed his friends hands, squeezing them hard.

"It's alright, just squeeze back, you'll be ok," Ironhide assured him, as Orion continued to wither in pain.

"I'm sorry baby, I know it hurts," Stargazer cooed, trying to be as careful as possible with alcohol. "You're being so brave,"

Orion continued to hiss and whease, his hands turning white from their strong grip on Ironhide's large palms. And finally, it was over.

Stargazer rinsed his back with water one more time, whispering words of comfort to the injured boy. Finally, with all that done, she went into the medicine cabinet, took out a roll of bandages, along with some ointment for injuries. It was made for small cuts and scars, but it would have to do. She rubbed the cool, soft gel across Orion's injuries, careful not to hurt them too much, then, when she was done, sat the small boy up, and wrapped the bandages around his body until the entire back was covered.

Orion took a deep breath of air. The injury still burned like fire, but at least it would be allowed to heal.

"Okay, I should probably take you home now," Stargazer told him. "Your _master_ ," She spat the word out as if it were acid on her tongue, "will probably give you scrap if you return home late,"

Orion simply nodded, out of the energy it took to talk. Stargazer gave him a new cloak, and some of Ironhide's old robes, which, despite said boy having grown out of them long ago, they where still to big on Orion Pax's small body. But they would do for the time being. She also placed a pair of gloves onto his hands, just in case.

"I'm gonna carry you home now, baby," Stargazer told the boy gently, securing him onto her back. "Ironhide, honey, you stay here, alright? Try to get some dinner going, if you can,"

"Yes, mama!" He called out.

Before she left, Stargazer grabbed a small cloth which apparently held emergency food and drink. She then left the house, and began the long walk towards Alpha Trion's mansion.

Orion had fallen asleep for most of the walk, lulled by the rocking of Stargazers steady steps. She had been humming a song he didn't know as she walked, which served as a lullaby. It was dark out, but the streets where well lit by the activities in the city buildings.

Orion was woken up by Stargazer placing him onto the porch of Alpha Trion's mansion. She tried knocking on the door, but nobody answered.

"Everyone's probably asleep," Orion explained, mumbling somewhat. "I'll just wait here till morning,"

"I'll wait with you, then," Stargazer said firmly, sitting down next to the little boy.

"No, don't do that," Orion told her, with a mix of exhaustion and worry. "I don't want you to get in trouble,"

"I don't care about any trouble I get myself into," Stargazer insisted. "I'm gonna sit here, and make sure your ok,"

Orion shook his head again, his eyes beginning to brim with tears. "No don't!" He sobbed. "I can't– if you– I…" His words drowned out with his shaking chokes of tears. Stargazer eyed the poor child, debating what to do in her head.

"Alright," She finally relented. "If it really means that much to you, then I'll go. But I'm coming back first thing in the morning to check on you," She then stood up, about to retreat back to her house. She stopped when the small gloved hand grabbed hers, keeping her there. She smiled at little Orion.

"You sure you want me to leave?" She asked him.

After a few beats of time, Orion finally retracted his hand from hers, tucking it into his body. Stargazer looked at him sadly. "Alright then," She muttered quietly, and began to walk off.

She had left her rations with the boy, which he gladly ate, suddenly realizing how hungry he was. He felt himself choke up a little as he swallowed down the milk inside the container. He loved milk. He loved the food. And he loved Ironhide and Stargazer. He loved Ratchet. He loved the nameless boy he befriended almost a lifetime ago. And he loved his family, which was why their deaths hurt him so much. He didn't want to lose another person he loved, or see them get hurt. So that was why he told Stargazer to leave, despite desperately wanting her to stay with him.

Orion consumed the last of his rations, before laying down on the porch. He got into a position that didn't put weight on his still-stinging back, wrapped himself into his cloak, and drifted off to sleep. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

 **So, somewhat sad chapter. But hey, Orion's got friends on his side. I do feel bad for Ironhide though; what's a kid supposed to do in situations like that?**

 **So, as we see, slaves don't have it nice. At all. But things have to get worse before they get better. Or more worse. Cause I think all transformers fans know what major event is creeping up soon. Oh well, pain's a part of writing.**

 **Read and review please, and thanks to everyone who previously reviewed my other chapters. Seeing your guy's feedback is one of the greatest parts of writing. I hope you guys enjoyed.**

 **~MotherUniverse signing out!**


	9. Chapter 7

**Hey! Welcome to the next chapter of The Alchemist!**

 **My summer vacation is coming up soon, so I'm really happy about that. Soon, I'll have spare time, which I can spend doing nothing but writing.**

 **This chapter, I'll be introducing a familiar character with a knack for explosives, as well as the small handful of OC's, mostly there because I needed characters. Either way, I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers series. I should probably have the disclaimer up more often, but I forget.**

 **And without further ado, on with the show!**

* * *

Chapter 7

* * *

Energon, the substance that provided immortality, was a pain to cultivate. It required so many variables, plus the perfect conditions to place a single drop of an energon starter product known as Cyber Nucleic Acid, CNA for short, in order to start the process of creating an energon field. The substance couldn't _just_ be made; it had to be planted from CNA, which would then sink into the dirt, expand itself, and in thirty to forty years, would become a full-on energon mine. The longer you left it for, the more energon would come out of it, but if you waited any less time than at least twenty-five years to excavate the spot where one planted the CNA, you would get absolutely no results, just a partially hatched seed that hadn't been given a chance to become it's true form.

The Alchemist of Primas where still attempting to find a faster, more efficient way to create the Philosopher's Stone, which led to the theories of synthetic energon, through a batch had yet to be properly made.

Energon itself wasn't truly a perfect philosopher's stone, though the Primians wanted other countries to think so. The energon would keep one from aging, and they would never get sick, or die of starvation and such. However, if the stone was perfect, the immortal would be absolutely invincible, which they were not.

It they got stabbed by a sword in a fatal place, they could survive, but they would feel the pain given with such an action. Plus, if they lost a limb or necessary internal organ, they could still survive, though it would be a struggle. However, a perfect Philosopher's Stone would allow the limb to grow back, much like a starfish, and while limbs could be reattached with energon, they couldn't be grown, meaning that if you lost your cut-off arm, you'd have to find a different limb to replace it with.

Even more a sign of Energon's imperfections where that it could run out. Once an energon crystal is processed into an elixir, a person could drink it and become immortal. However, it worked much like blood. The normal human blood would eventually become non-existant, and energon would flow through one's vain's instead. Like blood, it would get pumped by the heart, and like blood, it could be lost. Meaning that a so-called "immortal" could die by either rapid energon loss, or the destruction of their heart.

The formula for immortality was not perfect, much as the alchemist wished it was. Though, it was said that basic immortality would be as perfect as the body could get, and true immortality could only be received once one became a Prime.

There where other methods to find true immortality of corse. The theory of synthetic energon was believed by some to be the answer to their question, and other's chased down the legends of Red Energon; an elixir for immortality that looked more like the Philosopher's Stone than energon ever would; that was created by cultivating energon. It was believed that with the red energon, one would be able to walk faster than light, and have skin made from iron, though, nobody knew whether or not red energon ever ran dry in one's body.

The last theory, and most likely correct, is Cybermatter; using CNA and other alchemical components to create an artificial life spark, or, as it was sometimes referred to, a homunculus soul. The homunculus soul could be used to produce liquid CNA, which could then be alchemically transformed into Cybermatter; the substance that was believed to contribute to the building blocks of life. In other words, the energy that made up the flow of the world was cybermatter, and the ability to create such an energy through artificial means would supply the creator the true Philosopher's Stone.

Unfortunately, not even a homunculus soul had ever managed to be created.

So, until then, the immortals of Primus would gather their energon through basic means, planting CNA, waiting a few decades, and then mining it out.

There was one particular mine in the northern district in Iacon, where Ironhide's parents worked. Due to planting a large number of CNA drops whenever they found the perfect conditions, the place quickly became the largest energon mine on Primas, and seemed a long ways from running dry.

Stargazer, Ironhide's mother, was quite the chatterbox, and often ended up attracting a large amount of friends to listen to her gossip. Most went to her for such information, since she somehow seemed to always be on top of the latest news, no matter what it was. A close friend of Stargazer's, Coiler, had a son who was a usual playmate of Ironhide's, and therefore Orions. The group of boys loved the little redhead who joined their group, and had often wondered why he didn't come out to play more often.

"Well, it turns out poor Orion Pax is a slave," Stargazer said bitterly. She had not forgiven society for whipping the poor child until he bleed, and still remembered how they turned a little boy's beautiful back into butchered meat. "Those knockup slavers accused him of assaulting my son when the two where playing together, and whipped him until he bled. Poor baby, his back looked like Nightglaze's arm after it got crushed under those rocks,"

"Oh my!" Coiler exclaimed in shock, stopping her work to stare at the poor woman. "That poor child. I should've known he was being abused; The kid was so skinny his ribs where showing,"

"Well, you wouldn't know. I mean, that boy can _read_. He's the only slave I've ever met that could actually pick up a book and digest the words," Stargazer explained.

"If he could read, why is he a slave?" Coiler questioned.

"His _master_ ," She spat the word out bitterly. "Is Alpha Trion. Apparently the guy was looking for some smart kid to be a lab assistance of sorts. It's probably why they're keeping him small; so he can't fight back,"

While mining gossip usually never got around that much, stories of slaves that could read where rare, and the boy himself was seen as an anomaly; something only spotted in fantasy. So when Coiler told her son the reason Orion Pax rarely ever came to the park to play with him and the other boys, Coiler's daughter picked up on this story, and told it to a few friends from school.

"Did you know that there is a slave who can read?" She told them. "My younger brother is friends with the boy. His name is Orion Pax,"

One of her friends happened to be dating this one particular boy, whose father was a servant in the household of a rich businessman. So that friend told her boyfriend about Orion Pax, and he told his father, who then told the staff. The story of a slave that could read was an interesting topic, and one that spurred much discussion around dinner tables. Knowing this, the businessman took the rumor as something he could talk about with his clients at dinner parties to pass the time.

Rumors of Orion Pax spread across Iacon in rapid and hushed whispers. As the little red-haired boy approached the sixth month mark from when he was sold, the whisperings were beginning to spread to nearby cities. A slave who lived in Iacon could read. His name was Orion Pax. He was the embodiment of a feared legion; a slave who could read was a slave that could topple all that their society was built on. Whispers of fear, excitement, or a general desire to talk about some interesting gossip for once, surrounded the boy's name. Orion Pax, the slave who could read.

It was only a year after Orion Pax and Megatronus had been sold and separated, that the rumors of the slave who could read finally reached Kaon, where the formerly nameless gladiator boy finally heard word of his young friends condition.

There was a boy from Iacon who was around ten years old. His parents couldn't afford to take care of their little boy, so, when he was five, they dropped him at the slave houses, knowing that his life might be hell but at least he would get fed. They wished they could place him in an orphanage, but only children with status were able to become a legal orphan, instead of a slave. So, the five-year-old boy was branded, sold, and thrown from property to property like a child's lost ball. By the time he was ten, he was sold off to the Pit of Kaon, the Trainer hoping to have the child grow into a deadly warrior by starting his training young. It was mostly an experiment, but either way, the little boy would serve his purpose.

He was tall for his age, and also bulky, a layer of fat that would dissolve into muscle once he hit puberty sitting on his body. He was chubby, but the kind of chubby a growing boy should be. He was also healthy, high in spirit, and wouldn't mind fighting battles (not like he knew what he was getting himself into, his mind was preoccupied by the notion of having epic sword fights). He was pale, with equally pale blond hair, and grey eyes. The ten-year-old was also lucky enough to carry a name with him; Jackie. Though, the Trainer had decided to change his name to Wheeljack, which the young boy thought was just as awesome as the name he carried since birth.

Wheeljack had heard the rumor from the owner of an old inn, that the Trainer had stopped at when going from the slave houses in Iacon to Kaon. He thought nothing of it at first, but when he was given the opportunity to sit down and have a friendly chat with some of the younger gladiators, he found himself the chance to rely the strange rumor.

Metaronus was now eighteen. In the year, his hair had grown out, and now hung in short bundles around his face. He made sure to cut it, in order to keep it from growing too long, but there was only so much hair-cutting one could do when the only means they had to cut it with was a knife. He had grown a few inches, reaching the impressive height of 6'9". He was now taller than Soundwave, a man of 6'7", and even taller than the twins, even with their growth spurt.

Skyquake and Dreadwing, now fourteen, had grown a few inches taller, though they didn't much look it since Megatronus had managed to become taller than them. They were still big and bulky, and had quickly learned to stomach the gore and death of the gladiator pits.

The team, now Pit #2, felt like it was another lifetime since they engaged in their first tournament. From that day, they killed, and they killed, and they killed, but they lived. It was almost poetic, how they and their opponents would fight to the death, with the only benefit of the battle being that they'd get to live another day. One stood, living, and one fell, dead. And nobody rises, because each time, they'd just be fighting to make it to the next battle, so that they could fight again to make it to the battle after that.

Many of the younger gladiators had taken to Megatronus as a kind of mentor, mostly because he was the only veteran that ever bothered with them. Most veterans viewed the boys looking to them for help as a waist of their time; a distraction from trying to survive. And while Megatronus saw no benefit in helping the younger gladiators, he just had a nagging feeling someplace in his gut that he _should_. Besides, he had allowed the twins to turn him into their big brother figure when they were shoved into a bloodbath at thirteen, and had no source of parental comfort besides the seventeen-year-old who didn't shove them away when they came to talk to him, and in return, Megatronus had found a pair of irreplaceable allies within the twins. Not only were they a strong assistance on the battlefield, but they also were just good friends to confide in.

When little ten-year-old Wheeljack was brought into the Pit in order to be raised a perfect gladiator, it only seemed natural to Megatronus that he would be the one to look after the young boy; that he would be the veteran who protected and comforted the young child. The Trainer may not have intended to introduce the little boy to life-or-death battles yet, but Primus knows what he had done to the poor kid, and considering the boys night terrors, weekly disappearances into faculty only parts of the buildings, and his odd combination of fear and neediness towards the Trainer, Megatronus didn't have to be educated to figure out what the knockup was doing to poor Jackie.

Still, the boy remained oddly positive, and was completely starstruck by the older gladiators, and would hang out with them as much as possible. And eventually, during their times to just hang out and relax, Jackie brought up his story about the slave who could read.

Megatronus, the twins, Jakie, and a small handful of other boys were sitting in the breakroom, chowing down on food. Megatronus had allowed himself to try a small glass of beer, and while he liked it's sensation, he knew better than to drink too much, only allowing himself one small glass. He had been making a tiring effort to keep the twins, Jackie, and another boy of fourteen named Hitgame, who where currently the youngest of the gladiator boys, from having drinks themselves.

"Come on! All the veterans get to have beer!" Jackie pouted as the older boy grabbed the bottle and put it atop a shelf the boy couldn't reach.

"Most of the veterans are sixteen and over," Megatronus reminded the ten-year-old. "I'm not letting the twins or Hitgame have drinks either,"

"Well who put you in charge of the booz," Hitgame grumbled.

"It seems I'm the only veteran who wants to bother taking care of you younger boys, so that makes _me_ in charge of your _health_ ," Megatronus explained, exasperated. "But you guys could get yourselves intoxicated. If you want to end up dying in the pits, then be my guest,"

The four young boys finally backed down after that statement.

"I'm only drinking a small cupful anyways, mostly just to see what all the other guys like so much about this slag," Megatronus added. He had become accustomed to using Primidian curse words, though he still found a few of his curse words more effective. "So far, I'm not really seeing the appeal," He added, only halfway lying, since he liked the taste, but knew the side effects.

Jackie shrugged. "I guess I'm not missing out on much then,"

The five boys claimed a table for themselves. There was a different table where the other seventeen and eighteen year old boys where sitting, that Megatronus could've easily joined, but since he entered self-appointed post of resident mentor and big brother for the younger gladiators, he had spent most of his time hanging out with them. After all, somebody had to take care of them.

"I'm curious," Hitgame threw out. "What's Iacon like, Jackie,"

"It's pretty cool!" The young boy said. "Every important person on Primas lives in Iacon. And there are so many different types of people. It's all strange and stuff. I mean, in Iacon, there's a legion of a slave who can read! You won't find something like that anyplace else!"

Hitgame started laughing, explaining how it couldn't be true, but Megatronus' mind was reeling. Iacon. Could that be the place his friend was taken to? Little Orion Pax, who could read but who couldn't fight; who was intelligent but physically weak. The prodigy; the slave who could read; his friend. All the way in Iacon. Orion was right. They would see eachother again. But it had been a year. Would the boy remember some kid without a name who he fell asleep on in the slave ship?

"What was his name?" Megatronus finally asked the ten year old. His voice was barely above a whisper, and sounded desperate; pleading. As if learning the name of the slave who could read would give him peace.

The older boy could not miss the look of concern on Jackie's face as the young boy tried to conjure up the memory.

"Obrion Something," He hummed out, before backtracking since it didn't sound right. "No, that's not… his last name, had sort of a box-ish sound to it. Obrion, Brion, something, Tax, Drax…"

"Orion Pax," Megatronus supplied, ending the ten-year-old's suffering.

"Yeah!" He cheered. "That was it! Orion Pax; the slave who could read!"

Megatronus looked down at his plate with a smile. He had promised he'd see Orion again. Whenever he questioned if his life was really worth fighting for, he would remember this. If he dies, he wouldn't fulfill his promise, the younger gladiators wouldn't have anyone to look after him, and neither he or little Orion would ever be free. The boy was a part of his life, and if he just let himself die, then all the possibilities Megatronus carried would die with him. And he was determined not to die a slave, and not to die without fulfilling his promise to Orion. And he suddenly felt the guilt of slaughtering opponents in the Gladiator Pit's lift off his shoulders. He hadn't been fighting for nothing. His life had meaning, and he was fighting for it.

"I know him," Megatronus whispered, quiet joy spilling out from his fibers.

"You're pulling my leg!" Hitgame scoffed, convinced that this 'slave who could read' didn't exist.

"No!" Megatronus insisted. "I really do," He finally looked all the other boys in the eye, a large smile stretched onto his face. "I met the boy on the slave ship that carried me here. We were separated at the slave docs, but we promised we'd find each other someday! And now I know Orion's alive, and in Iacon,"

"Which is sorta on the opposite side of the island than Kaon," Jackie brought up, sounding guilty about bursting the bubble.

"Well, we are a traveling gladiator company," Skyquake mentioned. "I mean, there are gladiator pits in Iacon, right?"

"But those are for the big leagues," Jackie protested. "Only the greatest companies get to battle with the Iacon gladiators,"

"Does the Trainer know this?" Megatronus questioned.

The twins suddenly looked at each other and smiled. "Maybe, maybe not," Dreadwing began.

"But you know our Trainer," Skyquake said with a smile. "He'd jump on any chance he got to prove that our company is the best. With a little bit of luck, we'll be off to Iacon in no time!"

That bit of luck came in the form of a gladiator match about a month later. As per usual, the twins would sit out for the second round, and Soundwave would take on the final rounds. Megatronus had become accustomed to killing his opponents while they were incapacitated by Soundwave's screaming, and it barely fazed him anymore. He had to kill younger opponents more than once, thought that also didn't phase him as much anymore. They were just opponents. People in the way of his life. People trying to end his life so they could keep theirs. And he would not let them do such a thing.

For the first time in nearly forty years in, a gladiator company (their company) in Kaon, won every single match. Not a single warrior in the Pit's of Kaon had died during that match, and the gladiators got to celebrate the greatest victory they had ever fought. Only the oldest of veterans could remember the last time such a victory was achieved in Kaon, and the others simply praised the fact that they didn't have to mourn for any of their friends.

Of course, new's of such a rare victory spread throughout all of Kaon, officially marking the Pit as the greatest gladiator company in the city. This gave them a shot at competing in the Primas Olympics; a treat that the company had never been able to achieve before.

"This is awesome!" Flametrekker, a nineteen-year-old veteran, cheered upon hearing the news. "I've always wanted a chance to get out of town!"

"We might even get to go to Iacon!" Jackie cheered. "I wonder if I'll get to see Chromia there,"

"Who's Chromia?" Flametrekker questioned.

"A friend of mine!" Jackie said enthusiastically. "Her mom owns a supplies shop I often ran errands to. She's probably sixteen by now,"

"This is it," Megatronus said with glee. "This is the chance we've been waiting for,"

"Chance for what?" Asked Dreadwing.

Megatronus took a glance around, making sure nobody was listening in, before huddling the younger boys around him. Him, the twins, Jackie, Flametrekker, Hitgame, a 16-year-old named Wolverine, and an 18-year-old named Stain. That would be a good group.

"If we get to Iacon, we're gonna escape," Megatronus told them.

"What?!" Most of the boys gasped out in disbelief.

"Shh!" Megatronus snapped, silencing them. "You've heard what Jackie said about Iacon; there's so many people there, anybody could blend right in. There's enough clothes stores that we could probably steal some gloves to cover our brand marks, an we just wonder the streets until we figure out what to do. I'm going to find Orion, Jackie can probably look for Chromida, and we'll figure out what to do from there,"

"This is insane!" Stain insisted. "We can't even read!"

"We'll learn somehow eventually," Megatronus insisted. "If we get to Iacon, we can escape the arena,"

"And how exactly are we gonna do that?" Hitgame questioned in scepticism.

"I think I have an idea," Jackie spoke up quietly, a smile on his face that slowly began to widen. "How do you guys feel about blowing stuff up?"

* * *

 **Ah, Wheeljack. Your ten years old, how do you know how to blow things up?**

 **I couldn't have _every_ person Megatronus knew pre-war be Decepticons. Plus, I needed a character who worked with explosives for an important plot point, and I couldn't resist adding Jackie into the mix. **

**Obviously, this establishes a whole new relationship. Since Jackie is friends with Megatronus, when the war starts, Jackie's obviously gonna have some personal issues to work for. His place with the Autobots is a complicated one, and frankly, I'm excited for what's gonna become of his character.**

 **~MotherUniverse signing out.**


	10. Chapter 8

**This chapter is somewhat short, but necessary. I'm almost done with school and finals and everything, and I'm coming close to a rather big chapter for this story. I have so many plans, and summer is gonna give me a lot of time to write them.**

 **Not much happens in this chapter. Mostly just Orion growing. Time does go back a bit to where we left off with him last, but then it continues, and catches up to the spot it was in last.**

 **Also, one more character will be introduced, and I'm sure you will be happy.**

 **And without further ado, on with the show!**

* * *

Orion was woken up and dragged inside by one of the house servants the morning after he slept on the porch. The servant that guided him in had his fun dragging him by his ears and slamming his head into the wall, which didn't surprise Orion that much, since that particular servant seemed to hate him. Though, as soon as he heard the voice of Alpha Trion walking down the hall while talking to somebody, the servant immediately stood the boy up and gripped him by his shoulder instead.

"Orion, where have you been?" Alpha Trion asked.

"Found the kid sleeping' on the poarch. He was out past curfew," The servant tried to hide the glee in his voice, excited about Orion potentially getting in trouble. He failed miserably, but Alpha Trion ignored him.

"Well, he missed breakfast, and all that's left are some scraps. I'm sure getting stuck eating those is punishment enough," Alpha Trion said simply, before waving Orion to come with him. "I'm glad you enjoy your friend, Orion, but if you want the better breakfast you're going to have to make sure your in the house to enjoy it,"

The scars from the whipping where still burning like crazy, but Orion decided to deal with it, happy that Alpha Trion hadn't told the servant to deal with him. The beating wouldn't be worse than the whipping, but he didn't want his nose broken again.

Orion enjoyed the breakfast scraps; which was a small amount of leftover scrambled eggs, four one-inch cubes of beef, and several different bread heals; and he drank it down with water. He then made his way to the lab where he continued to assist Alpha Trion with his experiments.

He was given a few more breaks than usual that day, probably because Alpha noticed his exhaustion and pain. This he was grateful for. He spent the day trying to pretend he hadn't gotten whipped, fearing what his master would do if he discovered his own slave got into trouble. However, much of his work involved bending over to grab things, which pulled at the scabs on his back. Eventually, the wound cracked open, and blood began to seep out, first into his bandages and then into his white tunic.

"Orion, what is the meaning of this?" His master asked calmly, gesturing to the blood soaked onto the back of his shirt. Orion opened his mouth to try to come up with an excuse, but Alpha Trion just sighed and shook his head. "You got whipped yesterday, didn't you?"

"How'd you?" Orion hesitated.

"News travels fast around Iacon," Alpha Trion summed up. "A small, red-haired slave getting whipped for both absquatulation and the assault of a tall, dark-skinned free boy. There were few possible people it could be,"

"I was just playing with Ironhide," Orion tried to explain, starting to shake.

"Yeash," Alpha Trion sighed. "I can't have you in bad condition, Orion. With your help I get so much more work done, it's really a miracle I was able to find someone like you. If you get beaten like that again, tell me, and I'll take you straight to Dr. Ratchet.

True to his master's word, Orion found himself in Ratchets office, getting his wounds recleaned, bandages reapplied, and in places where there was enough skin to work with, stitches to his wounds. Orion had been strapped down to Ratchets hospital bench tightly, so he wouldn't flinch too much while getting his wounds repaired.

"Whoever gave you the initial bandages did a good job for having so little supplies," Ratchet mused, impressed, while snipping off the leftover thread of a stitch.

"It was Ironhide's mom, Stargazer. She works in the mines, but she had some medical supplies on hand," Orion explained.

"Well, the next time you see Stargazer, tell her I said 'good job'" Ratchet chatted. Normally, he wasn't one for chit-chat, but he sometimes found it could keep a patient calm. Besides, this boy wasn't actually to terrible to talk to; intelligent enough to hold a proper conversation, but humble enough to not constantly talk as if he was the greatest thing born to mankind.

"On the subject of health, you need to be getting more calcium," Ratchet informed the boy. "Your rather small for a boy your age. If it was a familiar thing I wouldn't be so concerned, but you've described most of your family members as being on the taller side,"

"I used to really detest milk when I was little. I don't even know why, I love milk now, but I would refuse to drink it when I was younger. So I guess that's part of the reason," Orion explained. "I was also much more of a indorrs person than my brothers where, so I never built up as much strength as they did. Though, I like going outside much more now that I'm spending most of my time in the lab,"

"That makes sense," Ratched responded, making a mental note to tell Alpha Trion to let him leave the house more often. "Alright, done," He told the young boy, unstrapping him and helping him sit up.

"Thanks!" Orion cheered, stepping off the table, and wobbly wondering out the door, with the old doctors help of corse.

"I want you to tell Alpha Trion that you need to drink more milk, and should be let outside more often. Doctors orders,"

As the months began to crawl by, Orion fell into a routine. Monday through Friday, he would help with lab work, then on Saturday, Alpha Trion would go shopping for lab supplies, and have Orion come with him, both to help carry things, and to give the boy a chance to get out more often. Sunday was also a lab-work day, but Alpha Trion would take Orion to Beta's pastry shop and order him a large glass of milk sometime in the middle of the day. On the third day of every new month, Orion would get the day off, which he usually spent the day at the park, playing with Ironhide and his friends. The dark-skinned boy had been noticeably more careful not to let his smaller friends gloves come off, but other than this new development, Ironhide and Orion's relationship barely changed; if anything, they grew closer. For the most part, Orion was content with this routine. It was tiring, but it wasn't torment.

There were days when Alpha Trion would be in a bad mood. When those days would come, it would be hard to tell, but those days where torment for Orion. He wouldn't be allowed breaks, and would often get meal privileges taken away, but those days where far and few between, so his health wasn't at risk.

Orion began to notice differences in himself. Ironhide had been the first to point this out, and Orion eventually discovered it when he looked at reflections of himself in the glass of a few building windows on sunny days.

The milk had paid off. He was taller now. Still not as tall as Ironhide, but while he used to look small by comparison, he was now beginning to catch up to his friend.

He was more muscular too. The exercise he got when outside helped to give him a more solid build, and carrying heavy Alchemy tombs as well as supplies had built up muscles on his once scrawny body. His muscles weren't defined yet, but they were there. This, Orion had to be proud of.

He was starting to have to shave. He only grew little spindle hairs on his chin, but they were still facial hair's none-the-less. His face looked more defined, and he had started growing his hair out, partly because he didn't really have time to cut it, but also partly because his eldest brother had long hair, which he had kept in a ponytail, and Orion was curious to see if it would good on him also.

He finally looked like a fifteen-year-old boy. No, sixteen.

That's right. He had turned sixteen, and barely noticed. The year just dashed by quickly, and he had forgotten it was his birthday. He hadn't remembered until the month ended. He guessed there was nothing he could do about it now. The year just passed by so rapidly. The nameless boy he befriended would be eighteen now.

He had the day off, so he decided to go to Beta's pastry shop to get himself a belated birthday treat. He was able to convince one of the butlers to give him some pocket change, and he quickly dashed to the shop, excited to treat himself. He had wandered off alone before, but never had he been able to buy his own food. Even before he became a slave, his mother or father were always buying whatever Orion was having at the time. Was this what it felt like to be sixteen? To have independence?

To his surprise, Beta wasn't at the counter. In her place was a girl with chin-length, strawberry blonde hair, silvery eyes, and somewhat plump lips. She was wearing a pink dress, with a lilac cloak over it, and a pair of white cotton gloves over her hands. It was possible that she was hiding a brand mark on the back of her hand.

"Is Beta not here today?" Orion asked. He may not have noticed himself, but his voice had gotten deeper over the year. It was the mid-puberty alto-pitched voice many boys his age experienced.

The girl smiled, shaking her head. "No, she's visiting a family member," She explained. "I'm Arial, and I'm taking care of the shop today,"

"Hey Arial," Orion said pleasantly. He remembered the name from hearing it tossed around a few times by Alpha and Beta. She was Beta's slave. "I'm Orion Pax," The growing boy introduced himself.

Arial stopped for a second, before turning around, smiling. "Orion Pax, huh? The slave who can read,"

"Yeah, I guess," Orion stuttered awkwardly, unsure of what to do with Ariel's question. The girl turned back towards the counter, putting away some of the glass cups.

"When I was sold to Beta, she named me Arial. Didn't even ask what my _real_ name was," The girl informed him, a bitter tone edging in and out of her voice, obviously hating the fact that she was just renamed like some sort of doll. "But," She turned around to face Orion, slipping the white glove off her right hand, revealing her brand mark. The brandmark was supposed to be a wall; a separation; a symbol that declared someone less than human. But on her hand, it looked like a symbol of unification and trust; a special trust from one slave to another. Orion mimicked the same movement, their branded hands feeling lit with something stronger than fire, greater than slavery. A sacred promise that no matter what, the both of them were human.

"My _real_ name is Elita. Elita One,"

* * *

 **Done. I hope you all enjoyed. Read and review. Whatever.**

 **Interaction between Optimus and Elita coming soon.**

 **~Mother Universe signing out!**


	11. Chapter 9

**Hello! Sorry Don't worry! I am publishing today! Thank you to everyone who's read, reviewed, and supported this story. This is the biggest project I've ever taken on, and I'm happy to say that I've so far met with success. It isn't often that I make a fic that ends up being this long before I give up, so I'm really proud of myself.**

 **This chapter is just a little bit of fluff. Not exactly anything terrible going on, but still a necessary chapter. The first act is mostly dedicated to character shaping and creating relationships, and I can proudly say that thus far, I've done a pretty good job at it :)**

 **Anywho, I don't own the transformers franchise, yada yada, whatever. Also, please leave a review. I really love reviews.**

 **And without further ado, on with the show!**

* * *

Chapter 9

* * *

Orion Pax had never really deal with girls before. His house didn't really ever have girls his age, besides this one brat girl he grew up with who took joy in making him miserable. Of course, now that she was dead, he missed her never-ending pranks, but at the time he couldn't have hated them more.

Elita was something else. She was kind to the people around her, but would fight anyone who pissed her off. She had good poster, and pride in her steps, and, despite being a slave, or maybe even because of it, she seemed determined to let people know that she was a person. She loved attention, but was still humble and down-to-earth. In other words, Elita was one of a kind, and Orion soon found himself falling head-over-heels for her.

He told Ironhide about this crush, to which the boy laughed, and spent the rest of the day mocking him for his "schoolgirl crush,". Orion had made a mental note to tease Ironhide just as hard when he started crushing on a girl himself.

Having a crush was weird. And it was his first. He didn't know how to deal with it. His body was doing very weird things he didn't think his body was supposed to be doing, and he couldn't get the girl out of his head. He ended up becoming so distracted from his work that Alpha Trion thought he was ill, and dragged the boy off to Ratchet's.

Ratchet was somewhat annoyed that Alpha Trion hadn't seen the obvious, but humored the scientist by checking the boy over anyways. However, as soon Trion left the room, Ratchet decided to get behind the real issue.

"Alright, who is she?" He asked, somewhat exasperated.

"What?" Orion peeped out, confused.

"Or he I guess, though I usually figure it out long before they can," Ratchet tacked on. "The girl your in love with, anyways,"

Orion turned as red as his hair, which caused Ratchet to laugh, though he did so quietly as possible, les the boy hear him and become more uncomfortable.

"Well, uh. Her name's Elita, but Beta renamed her Arial. She's Beta's slave," Orion explained, scratching the back of his head in slight embarrassment.

"Oh, I know Arial, but I didn't know that wasn't her actual name," Ratchet informed the young boy, sounding slightly bitter. He didn't really like the idea of giving a slave who already had a name a new one. "Arial - I mean, Elita, has been working under Beta as long as I've known her. She's a good cook, but she's a bit of a hassle for Beta. But if Ari–ah, Elita's got anything, it's spirit,"

"Ironhide says she's out of my league," Orion mentioned, mostly just to keep the conversation going. It had been awhile since he and Ratchet had gotten the chance to just… talk.

"Well, Ironhide's a lugnut," Ratchet replied.

"So you think she's not out of my league?" Orion chirped.

"I didn't say that," Ratchet hummed in amusement. "I just said that Ironhide's a lugnut,"

Orion stuck his tongue out at Ratchet and blew a raspberry. The old doctor choked down some laughter over the ridiculousness of the sixteen-year-old doing something so immature.

"Man, crushes are weird," Orion mused. "Do immortal's get crushes?"

Ratchet laughed, more out of tired misery than mirth. "When your an immortal it's worse. It's an alchemical belief that a perfect being has neither gender, and are able to reproduce with both men _and_ woman. Makes things more convenient for humanity. Anyways, one of the weird side effects of immortality is that you become pansexual. So immortals get stuck going crazy for people of _both_ genders. Long story short, it's hilariously miserable,"

Orion had a laugh about this. Immortality was weird. "So, what about you, then?" The boy said once he stopped laughing. "You got a wife? Husband? Family?"

With that, Ratchet's smile faded.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Orion muttered. "If you don't want to talk about it…"

Ratchet simply sighed, and sat onto the medics table. "It's alright. I wanted to talk to somebody about this, and you might be the only person who would listen and understand,

"I had a wife. And a son. He was an energetic young kid, and she was the greatest thing that ever happened to me,"

"What happened to them?" Orion asked quietly.

Ratchet sighed. "You've probably gotten this impression of me already, but I abhor the system of slavery. I can't stand how other humans are treated like dirt, and nobody sees anything wrong with that. But, I didn't always see it as wrong. After all, my parents owned slaves, and so did my grandparents, and other generations before. To me, it was normal,"

Orion hummed in compilation. "I guess it's the same for Alpha Trion, or Beta. For them, it's just how things are,"

"And when you've thought all your life that something is ok, and then somebody suddenly tells them what they're doing is wrong," Ratchet let out a hollow laugh. "You're going to think they're insane,"

"What changed for you?" Orion asked the doctor. Ratched nervously bit his lip, before continuing.

"My son was twelve. We just lost a few house slaves to a virus, so we bought new one's. One of them was a boy my son's age. The two soon became attached to the hip. And my son couldn't stand the way his friend was treated. The two eventually decided to run away together. When I reported the situation to the town police, they said that the slave had kidnapped my son, and was dangerous. I guess the slaver's think that 'dangerous' means 'shoot on sight', because that's what they did. They were armed with crossbows, and tried to shoot the slave, and my son was shot along with him. Both were dead. Then, only a few months later, my wife hanged herself from devastation. He was her only son, and she couldn't live without him. And the worst part was, the government wanted to cover this incident up, in order to keep the town from turning against the slavers; after all, they had just killed an innocent boy. So the story was, the slave ran away, kidnapped my son, killed him when he thought he would get caught, and the slavers killed the runaway in return,"

"The government. You mean the council of immortals? Didn't you join them?" Orion asked curiously.

"I was already a _very_ well-respected doctor; it didn't take much effort to convince the council to make me immortal, and therefore set up a medical welfare department in the council," Ratchet explained. "I'm going to change the way things work on this island. It was the complete disregard of life given towards a slave that got my son killed. And I will not stand by while this island pretends to be perfect, yet disregard others humanity. Especially when so many people think of this as normal,"

Orion nodded, and leaned against the doctor's shoulder. Ratchet looked surprised at this action, but accepted it anyways, smiling slightly at this boy taking comfort in him. "My son might've had a grandchild by now," He said sadly.

"I can easily picture you being a grandfather," Orion laughed. "Most of my grandparents died before I was born, but I knew my mom's father; my grandpa. He was an odd guy, talked about fish allot. He was obsessed with fish. Apparently, he had studied fish before he retired. He said I was his Koi Fish. He hadn't even seen a Koi Fish anywhere but in books, yet somehow I reminded him of one. He was weird,"

"Well, everybody's weird," Ratchet commented.

"I miss my family," Orion said sadly.

"I miss mine too," Ratchet replied to him, placing a comforting hand on the young boy's shoulder. "But, the odd thing about loss is that sometimes, because of those losses, you end up meeting someone you never knew you needed in your life,"

The day was July 21st, and Orion woke up feeling sick. There was a twisting in his stomach, and his skin felt like acid. One look at the date on the calendar and Orion knew exactly why.

It had been one year since his family was slaughtered.

His mother, father, brothers, even Tea Bag. The entire house staff. The gardener's wife was pregnant. He was excited to see her child. And the head baker was had promised him back when he was six years old that he would bake him the largest cake in the world for his sixteenth birthday. That very birthday had passed without Orion noticing. And his eldest brother was planning to ask his girlfriend to marry him. Orion had been ecstatic at the thought of possibly having a nephew or niece. And that girl was perfect for his brother; at least she was. So much was supposed to happen. So much didn't happen. So much happened that Orion would never even fantasise in his most horrendous of nightmares.

Orion had to work as usual that day, but he was barely in the lab for ten minutes before Alpha Trion noticed something was wrong with the boy, and immediately sent him off to Ratchets. Orion was grateful for this, since he didn't think he could even stand on his feet for much longer.

The moment Orion explained to Ratchet what was going on, the doctor set him up in one of the more comfortable hospital beds, with a pile of heavy and comforting blankets. Orion just laid there, not falling asleep, but not totally awake either.

The room was a colorful blur, and he felt the arms of ghost tugging on his heart, threatening to drag it away from him. He was tempted to let them. Just drag him away. Away from the horrendous life he lived. However, the pull was disrupted, and the colors began to fade back in, as a face he recognised hung above him.

"Ironhide?" Orion whispered quietly.

"Hey, man," Ironhide hummed back, sitting down at the edge of the hospital bed. "I thought you could use a friend,"

Orion said nothing, simply sitting up in his spot, while his friend claimed an actual spot on the hospital bed, sitting criss-cross, and pulling out a pack of playing cards. "Game?" He asked.

Orion nodded, and the two boys began to play a silent game of cards, not a word coming out of their mouths. Orion held a royal flush in his hands, watching the faces of the cards stare at him. They seemed to mock him with their eyes, holding some sort of aggression he couldn't quite place. As if they were telling him, with their eyes, that his life would never get better. Even if he somehow managed to be free of slavery.

Orion threw the cards away, across the bed, as if they were on fire.

"Are you alright?" Ironhide asked, confused.

"No!" Orion snapped. "I'll never be alright! My family is dead! How can I be alright!?"

Ironhide hooked an arm around the boys shoulder, while Orion himself simply leaned over, and sobbed into his shoulder.

"Do you have any pictures of them?" Ironhide asked quietly. Upon feeling his friend shake his head, Ironhide told him, "I know someone who can paint like no other. Let's go find her. Maybe Ratchet will let you out,"

Ironhide soon led his smaller friend to a small supply shop, that sold fabrics, trinkets, and foodstuff. He led Orion into the back room, until they came across a girl around their age, with somewhat tanned skin, and dark brown hair, which she had tucked up into a ponytail. She was a free girl, and was tall, and muscular, probably from lifting heavy boxes around the shop.

"This is Chromia," Ironhide explained. "She's an old friend of mine. She's also a really good painter,"

"Jack of all trades, Master of all," Chromia bragged, half-joking, before transferring the heavy box she was holding onto her hip for balance. "So, what do you want, Hide?" She asked, referring to the old friend of hers.

"You have any painting supplies left?' Ironhide questioned. "My friend here would like to make a request,"

"And what request would that be?" Chromia questioned.

"Uh," Orion spoke up. "A portrait of my family. I don't have one, and…" He trailed off.

"Is your family with you?" Chromia asked, innocently enough. However, she felt somewhat guilty for asking when the red-haired boy shook his head. By the look on his face, she could only come towards one conclusion "Oh, alright then. You'd like a memento. Let me see what I can do,"

Chromia had painted the members of Orion's family up to the boys descriptions. She was extremely good at portraits, and he found his parents looking pretty accurate to his memories of them. He eventually stood, staring at the drying canvas, while Chromia and Ironhide chatted in the background. Soon the shop bell rang.

"Hey, Arial!" Chromia made a friendly greeting.

Orion turned around, finally drawing his eyes away from the picture, to see Elita selecting frozen foods from the store shelves.

"I don't need much today," Elita responded, "just some fruits and meats,"

"Well, as long as you pay for it," Chromia hummed pleasantly with a shrug.

Orion slowly walked out of the backroom, his eyes turning to the strawberry-blonde. She was wearing the white gloves, though, Orion noticed, they were made from thin material, and if one could look closely enough, they could see the brand-mark underneath. Only Elita could wear a stigma like a metal. Orion was about to go back into the back room when the girl saw him there.

"Hey Orion," She greeted. The boy himself fought to keep his nerves down, debating in his head whether he wanted to run away screaming or actually have a human conversation with her.

"Hey, Elita," He greeted back, shifting around in his shoes. "How's your day been?"

"Eh, work, as usual," She groaned. "How about you?"

"Well, it hasn't been the greatest day," Orion said honestly, the knot of grief that had settled in his stomach twisting harder and harder. "But I'll live,"

Elita cocked an eyebrow. "Did something happen today?"

Orion decided to be honest. "Today's the anniversary of my family's death. It's been a year,"

Elita frowned. "A year huh? I guess that would be rather unpleasant. I don't even remember my family, and sometimes I wonder what's better,"

Orion sighed. "I don't want to forget them. The memories hurt, I guess, but they're all I've got,"

"There are some things that are worth the pain," Elita said. "Primas know's it isn't easy,"

Orion gave the girl a small smile. "Well, at least I'm not facing it alone," Orion smiled, looking at Ironhide, who was currently making silly faces at Chromia. As soon as Ironhide caught his smaller friends eye, he immediately noticed the boy was talking to Arial, or Elita, according to Orion. He still thought Elita was out of his league, but if he managed to make a score, who was Ironhide to stop him? So, the dark-skinned boy gave his friend a smile and a double thumbs-up. Orion suppressed a laugh at his friends antics.

Yeah, he definitely wasn't alone at all.

* * *

 **Yep, so, another shorter chapter. But mostly because it's a calm before the storm, since next chapter, shit hits the fan. Have fun.**

 **~MotherUniverse, signing out.**


	12. Chapter 10

**Hiya Readers! Welcome back!**

 **Ok, so I originally planned this chapter to be longer. But a nice case of writers block and a looming deadline said otherwise. That being said, wether I'll be able to stay on schedule shall be determined, because my family is moving, so I've got a lot of work to do, meaning that, as much as I would've liked, I can't spend every minute of my day writing. However, I'll do my best.**

 **If you haven't noticed, I finally made a proper cover for it! I hope it looks cool.**

 **Last chapter I said that this one was going to be BIG. And it still somewhat is, but it's gonna be a little smaller than expected. Though, it's still a pretty long chapter anyways, so I can't say I'm disappointed with how it turned out.**

 **Final note: We'll be seeing someone new and familiar to the franchise make somewhat of an appearance. I won't say anything more about it though.**

 **And without further ado, on with the show!**

* * *

Chapter 10

* * *

Three years.

Three goddam years.

Three _fragging_ years since he was sold to the Pits of Kaon.

And finally, he had his chance.

Megatronus had a hard time remembering the faces of the people he killed. He wanted to remember them, if for nothing but respect. But they all just blurred together. There were too many of them. Too many people he skewered his his claymore. Too many people he delivered swift blows to while Soundwave's incredible screams had them incapacitated on the ground. Too many limbs he cut off, heads he sent swerving off their bodies. Too much blood on his hands, and it all looked and smelled the same.

He even had forgotten what little Orion Pax looked like, the boy's face fading away from him, as any prior happiness he ever held before arriving to Primas where erased and corrupted, stained red and smelling like rotten flesh, covered by screams and yells of both barbaric amusement and frightened fighting.

His life was a red blurr.

The only face from his past he really remembered was the face of his first kill. The little boy, muscular, but small, his face youthful, pale, and covered in freckles, and fiery red hair. He had stabbed that little boy right in the gut. He often relieved this memory, as the kid gagged up a mouthful of blood, the large cut in his abdomen leaking his precious red fluids, before his corpse slipped off the sword, leaving a stain of his blood on it, as his body simply hit the ground, nothing but a lifeless husk. Where did his soul go? Was it allowed freedom, or was it enslaved too? Was the poor boy's soul stuck to his killer? Did Megatronus have to carry the souls of those he killed with him wherever he went?

He was going mad. His body count was unknown, and so where the amount of times he survived. Every time he killed one person, he saved his life one time. He had to constantly remind himself of his quest for survival, because he knew he couldn't give up. Giving up meant death, and Megatronus did not want to die.

He lived on the border of death and life. Skipped the line like a child's jump-rope game. It was funny. It made him laugh. He often found himself laughing on the battlefield. First he laughed to keep himself from crying, but now;

He laughed because he enjoyed himself.

He enjoyed battle. He enjoyed killing his opponents. He enjoyed saving his own life.

It wasn't like he had anything else to enjoy anymore.

Hitgame was dead. A team member of his used the poor boy as a human shield. Then the tactic turned out to be pointless, since the entirety of Hitgame's team ended up dying anyways. That left one less member of the small group of boys who plotted their escape. But he was the only one.

Jackie was going through hell. While the Pit's victories where beneficial, and loved, it meant that the Trainer would celebrate by dragging the poor boy off to his room, and having his pleasures. Megatronus was disgusted at all the acts of violation performed on the young Pit member, and the only thing that kept him from ripping the man's throat out was the knowledge that they just had to wait until they got to Iacon to make their final uprising. And now, finally, everything was going to change.

Megatronus was 20 years old. He had hit 7 feet exactly, and his growth spurt seemed to stop there. He was the biggest man in the Pit, and had even taken on a few single's matches instead of Soundwave, to give the man a break. The twins were sixteen, and where somewhat addicted to beer, but luckily for them, they had their elder teammate to take the glasses away from them when they were in risk of drinking too much. They both had a hard time stomaching their kills, and were plagued by guilt and nightmares, but they took comfort in Megatronus, and in each other. The twins saw the older boy as a big brother, and had faith that no matter how much hell they faced, Megatronus would have their backs. Stain was also 20, but he mostly kept to himself, often drawing with charcoal pencils onto bark and rocks to calm himself. He was reliable, but he wouldn't go out of his way to talk to anyone. And considering all the members of his team, except himself, where killed, Megatronus couldn't blame him. Flametrekker was older than Megatronus, but he left the 20-year-old to the position of leadership, mostly because he wasn't smart, and he knew it. He was a brawler, and a survivor, but Megatronus was more clever than he was, so he followed and protected the younger boy, and left the escape plans to him. Wolverine, now 18 years old, was hyper and energetic, and the closer the small group got to the time they would escape, the more giddy the boy became. He was excited about living as a free boy in Iacon, and couldn't wait to possibly learn to read.

Soundwave had been told of the boys plans, and as far as they knew he wasn't against it. He hadn't ratted them out, but whether it was because of support for their escape or his odd refusal to talk, they didn't know. The only indicator that he even wanted to escape with them was a single thumbs-up he gave the boys when they discussed the initial escape. Nobody was sure what it meant.

Jackie was 12, hitting his growth spurt age, and springing up like a beanstalk. His hair was growing out, mostly because he kept forgetting to cut it, and his almost-white hair had a usual shoulder length. Megatronus himself made sure to never let his matted black hair grow past his chin, and he was unsure how the 12-year-old dealt with the long hair. Jackie was being trained hard, and was dreading the day he would be sent onto the battlefield, which was coming up soon. He had slain large, starving animals, and he knew that humans where next. Megatronus tried to comfort the young boy the best he could, but he knew that nothing could prepare anyone for the first time they killed someone.

Megatronus had changed. He saw it in his face. His eyes were devoid of life, and dark circles hung under them like bats. He had aged; he already had streaks of grey in his hair. He tried to keep himself shaved, at least. He wanted to look somewhat alive. Though, with or without a shaven face, he could always see the gaunt, sunken cheeks, his skins flesh barely hanging onto his bones. If his face just slid off his skull, he wouldn't be surprised. He had enough hack-like scars across both his face and entire body to loosen the flesh, and all he was waiting for was a final strike, and he'd let his face slide off. Maybe his skull didn't have the eyes of a killer.

But his fight was not futile. Not at all.

It took two years since the Pit had achieved their biggest victory, but finally, they would be fighting in the olympic tournament in Iacon. And he would finally be able to see Orion Pax again.

Megatronus wasn't sure what it was about this boy that made him so desperate to find him. Orion was not the only slave he knew who promised to find him. There had been others, most who didn't have names, and who's faces he had forgotten. And as more friends made the empty promises to someday reunite with him, the less faith he had in those words. Until he finally stopped believing them at all. He was around fourteen when the reality of those promises finally became apparent, and he hadn't believed such a promise since.

Then Orion fell asleep on him on the slave-ship. A boy so bright and innocent; with a body made from glass, but a heart made of gold. He had walked through hell, but still found it in himself to smile. He was brighter, and stronger, than the sun himself, and treated a stranger, who had cruelty shoved him to the side when all the boy wanted was a decent rest; he treated that stranger as if he was an old friend. There was something Orion had that made Megatronus' heart pulse with hope whenever he thought of him.

Love.

That's what it was. He had never met someone so full of love. And from love, bloomed peace, and from peace, bloomed happiness, and from happiness, bloomed freedom.

The pits where devoid of love. The boys would be treated cruelly, while people would cheer for their deaths. The twins where only thirteen when the were forced to fight and kill. Thirteen. Megatronus could never forget that, never forgive. And what about the little boy he had killed? How could this place hold so much contempt for human life that they would shove children into a place like this, just for the sick entertainment of the spectators.

So Megatronus chased that love. The small amount of glowing light in a see of dark red. And what was his life worth if he didn't have that light to chase? He _needed_ to see Orion Pax again. He _needed_ this boy in a way he couldn't explain. Maybe it was desperation; desperation to hold onto _something_. To have _something_ that could possibly be worth walking through hell. Orion Pax. His light at the end of the tunnel.

He would walk through hell. Again, and again, and again, if it meant that he could just _see_ Orion Pax.

* * *

"So, this is it, huh?" Dreadwing said, his voice barely above a whisper. Currently, Megatronus' team, now Pit #1, where sitting in their rooms together, where the dark seemed to be heavier than usual. The Iacon tournament was in a week. The next day, they would all be loaded into carriages and carted off to an all-new Gladiator ring. Excitement and terror burned in everyones stomachs. It was almost more than they could take.

"We're finally getting out of this hell-hole," Skyquake breathed out, content. Each team member sat on their own beds, barely able to sleep. Megatronus allowed himself a smile.

"We'll finally have lives," He hummed, deciding not to bring up the possibility that they could fail. "What do you guys want to do once you get to Iacon?"

"Well, learning to read has always been at the top of our priority list," Dreadwing laughed. "And I always wanted to have a pet,"

"Yeah a pet would be nice!" His twin joined in. "Maybe a dog? Or a horse? Either one would be nice,"

"Well, I was thinking something small," Dreadwing told his brother.

"Dog's can be small,"

"But I was hoping for a cat," He whispered.

Skyquake stared at his twin for a solid minute, looking both shocked and betrayed. "Your not my twin anymore, Dreadwing!"

"Hey! You can't disown your own brother just because he likes cats!" Dreadwing snapped back.

"After everything we've been through together, you betray me in such a way!?" Skyquake cried, making a dramatic pose that could only be described as fake despair.

"Well of course!" Dreadwing snapped, making a similar dramatic pose. "My ugly-ass brother would want an ugly-ass mutt!"

"You two are identical though," Megatronus popped in, somewhat amused by their antics. It was good to see they still held _some_ level of youthfulness to them.

"Yeah but we both have different facial scars," Dreadwing justified. "Mine are positioned in such a way that make me look badass, and adorable, while his scars resemble slag,"

"You wish you had my scars!" Skyquake quipped back. "They look a thousand times more badass than _yours_ will ever look!"

"Your's look like someone dropped you on the head as a child!"

"Well your's look like the results of being a clumsy lugnut!"

The twins were planning to continue their debate, but knock on the wall drew their attention. Soundwave had been sitting in bed, and had been braiding some loose strings he had found for entertainment, but he had stopped to hit the wall, forcing the younger occupants in the room to turn their attention to him. He placed a finger up in front of his mask; which he didn't even take off to sleep, to signal the to quiet down. So the twins did, burying themselves in their blankets, and quickly falling asleep.

After an hour of attempting but failing to fall asleep, Megatronus decided to try to make some small-talk with Soundwave; mostly because he hadn't tried before, and wanted to see if he could.

"If you don't mind me asking, Soundwave, how did you end up here?" Megatronus asked the elder teammate. He didn't really know why he asked; he knew Soundwave would likely not answer. But still, there was curiosity in his question; he had been the silent man's teammate for three years, and he didn't know anything about him at all. It was about time this changed.

Like Megatronus predicted, Soundwave said nothing. However, the man's actions still surprised him.

Soundwave lifted his mask slightly, - not taking it off, but enough to show his mouth, which was covered in scars. He then lifted his lengthy but slender hand towards his teeth, and bit down hard, drawing blood.

His blood wasn't red, however, but a murky blue.

"Your immortal!" Megatronus shouted out, before quickly covering his mouth, hoping his shouting didn't wake the twins. "But you must've been on the immortal council then,"

Soundwave nodded in confirmation.

"So how did you end up here?" Megatronus asked.

Soundwave simply held up his right and left hand for comparison. They were both of the same length, but his right hand had a slightly larger palm, and was a slight shade darker in skin toan. The right hand had the brand mark on it, meaning that someone must've cut off his original hand, and replaced it with that of a slave. Megatronus wasn't sure what that meant, but he could only assume that Soundwave was kicked off the Immortal Council for some reason or another.

"You must've done something they really didn't like then," Megatronus hummed, making sure his teammate knew he understood. Soundwave nodded, then, with his right hand, gave the young gladiator a thumbs up. A gesture that he had only ever given before when he and the other young boys had discussed the prospect of freedom. Megatronus understood.

"You spoke out against the slavery business," Megatronus guessed. "And they silenced you for it,"

Soundwave nodded, before slipping into his bed, and falling asleep.

Megatronus let himself process the new information. He knew that every slave would prefer freedom, though some of the more brainwashed slaves wouldn't know of this. There was an economic struggle in Primas. Jackie himself was sold into slavery because his parents didn't have enough money to keep their little boy fed. And even members of the high council disapproved of slavery, but those who spoke out where punished, so who would? The entire society was in a net of fear, desperate for change, but lacked the proper power to make it happen. This was the reality of the life he lives.

But soon, it wouldn't be.

Megatronus would soon go to Iacon. He would fight in the Pits for his last time, and then he would escape. He would find Orion Pax. But, he finally knew what he was going to do after all this was said and done.

He would work to abolish slavery. He would fight, and even rage war if he had to, but he would create a world where any living creature capable of free will would never have to go through such cruelty again.

Megatronus would make it so.

* * *

The men in the company where each allowed to take a certain amount of alcohol with them for the road. The eight boys planning escape all made sure to load up on Rum, and placed it in their bags so they wouldn't be tempted to drink it. Megatronus had collected a great amount of leftover charcoal from the common room fire, and Jackie had stolen some rice hulls from the kitchens. The boys used the small amount of pocket change they were sometimes given for victories on saltpeter, sulfur, and dextrin from a local store which sold alchemy supplies, and they collected empty coconut shells and glue-like paste in order to hold all the material, creating firework bombs. How Jackie new how to make fireworks, nobody knew, but they did know that his knowledge on how to make explosives was their ticket to freedom.

They had a solid plan. All they needed to do was to execute it without failure.

Success ment freedom. But if they failed? They probably would all be executed for such defiance. This was truly a gamble of life and death. And Megatronus didn't plan to lose.

Being the capital, and the city where many of the richest citizens of Primas lived in, Iacon was the most glorious, shiny and glistening city on the Island. Comparing Iacon to Kaon would be like comparing a fresh-cut diamond to a completely rusted tin cup. It certainly _looked_ more appealing than the worn-out city where Megatronus had been sold into, however, it held the same stench that Kaon did. Dirt, mixed with blood, and sweat. The smell of broken flesh hung in the air, and the boys in the pit couldn't help but notice the multiple whipping post spread throughout the city.

Clean didn't equal safe. But they would worry about that later.

Before long, the carriages entered the Gladiator stadium of Iacon. They weren't the only teams. According to the Trainer, there were several Gladiatorial companies coming for the Olympics, including three different teams from Tigar Pax, a startup company in Vos, almost a dozen others from Cities that Megatronus hadn't even heard of, and of course, some of the greatest teams in Iacon, including the team that owned the stadium. The Pit was the only company to come from Kaon, and they were perfectly fine with this.

The Pit filed into their own private common room reserved for them. It looked similar to the one they had back in Kaon, except it looked newer, and cleaner. And fortunately, the cabinets held extra rum, as well as a set of matches and a pipe to smoke. The young gladiator allowed himself a smile. It was as if this stadium was _destined_ to help them escape.

The set of boys planning their escape sat themselves down in a corner, using a piece of charcoal to draw their plan onto the floor. The easiest way to get out would be the sets of gates leading from the entrance and into the main fighting grounds itself.

"That's what we're gonna blow up," Megatronus whispered.

"And what about the rum? Why do we need that?" Skyquake questioned.

"We'll create a wall for ourselves from fire, in order to keep any guards from stopping us," Megatronus explained. "Now, if we want to get out quickly, we're going to have to act quickly, so—"

The meeting was interrupted when the Trainer came in and demanded they prepare for the preliminary rounds.

"We'll discuss more later. Try not to die"

* * *

It was a good hour before the Pit was scheduled to go up for the preliminary rounds, so Megatronus used the time given to discuss the escape plans. Everything was ready by the time they were demanded to go up.

Megatronus grabbed the claymore set on the weapon station. It was sleek, and shiny, and lighter than the claymore he usually used at the Pit. He wouldn't let this affect him. If anything, it should be easier to use.

Armed with the claymore and a shield, Megatronus stepped onto the battlefield with his team. The twins both had shields, Skyquake carrying a sword of his own, while Dreadwing carried a mase. Soundwave was simply armed with a whip. The four men steadied themselves in order to face whatever beast they would have to kill.

And out it came. And it was… smaller than they expected. It wasn't tiny, but they were expecting something huge.

It looked like a mesh of many animals; like something created unnaturally. The creature _had_ to be the result of alchemy; there was no other explanation for it. Jackie had said that the Iacon gladiator arena held Chimera's.

It was a mix of _things_. It's head was that of a large lizard, though it's lips looked snake-like. The creature had very little neck, its body shape reminiscent of a guinea pigs, with wings. It's back and torso was covered in pitch-black feathers. It stood on tallon-like legs, probably coming from some sort of vulture or eagle. It had three sets of wings towering one on top of the other, the middle wing being the largest, reaching a span as long as a table. The top wings seemed to come from an average hawk, while the bottom looked like the wings of a _very_ large hummingbird. It had no tail, simply a rear end that just kinda tucked in. It was the strangest animal that Megatronus had ever seen. And according to Jackie, Chimera's where kind of an average sight in Iacon.

Suddenly the bird-thing spat at them. It's strawberry-pink saliva hit Megatronus metal shield, and burned a hole right through it.

So, it also spat acid. Wonderful.

Just when the small group of gladiators thought their opponent was worse enough, several more flew into the arena. The boys counted twenty in total.

"You gotta be fragging kidding me," Megatronus spat out, throwing aside his now-useless shild, and preparing his claymore.

The first bird flew by like a bullet, clipping a small chunk of flesh off of Skyquakes arm. He cried out in pain, holding his arm as blood covered his palm. When the bird flew back for a second attack, Skyquike stepped back and held out his hand, smearing his blood on the bird, using the same strategy that Megatronus had first come up with the day they fought the Lions, before their first tournament.

Primas, that felt like so long ago.

The other birds seemed to hover around the one with blood on it, making the boys wonder if they were going to go in for the attack. However, they instead turned back to their opponents, eyes narrowing, as if they had somehow violated their cousin by wiping blood on it. And they came in all at once.

Megatronus suddenly felt like his eardrums where breaking as a painfully loud sound echoed across the entire battlefield, coming from Soundwaves lips. It was the first time Soundwave had ever screamed like that without making sure his teammates were wearing earplugs first. And _holy slag, that noise was painful_.

It did it's job though. The birds suddenly crashed down to the ground, shrinking out in pain.

Using his claymore as support, Megatronus did his best to steady himself, his eyes blurring with tears of pain, as his head throbbed with a sickening beat. But he needed to struggle though, and kill at least _one_ of those birds.

He managed to get to one of the closet ones, and easily forced his claymore through it's oddly placed scull. At least the where pretty easy to kill, if anything. The twins seemed to at least attempt to kill a few of their own, but Dreadwing seemed to be struggling to even move, while Skyquake could barely walk. Eventually, he did manage to get to one of the birds, giving it a quick stab, while Megatronus slayed a second. His vision blurred in and out, as a high-pitched ringing in his ears mixed with the sound of screams, while his brain felt as if it was being crushed to death. But then suddenly the screaming stopped, and some pressure was relieved. Quickly wiping the water from his eyes so that he could properly see, and struggling to stand through his dizziness, Megatronus turned to Soundwave, curious as to why the screams had stopped. He saw the man on his knees, his chest moving up and down in large pants. Clearly he was out of breath.

As Megatronus struggled to reclaim his barings, as his head continued to throb, he noticed that the birds where doing the same thing. Now down to 17, the acid-spitting birds slowly sat themselves up, attempting to shake off their dizziness. One tried to fly up, but quickly fell back down to the ground. At least the birds were as in as much pain as they where.

Fighting through his head throbbing, Megatronus poured all his focus into getting his legs to move, as he ran over to the nearest bird and slayed it, doing the same to as many as he could while they where still incapacitated. Of course, this made his head feel even worse, while he struggled to keep consciousness, but he cared very little of this. The birds had to die, or otherwise, he would.

Five birds finally lifted themselves off the ground, while other living birds still grounded managed to get themselves into a walking position, and began to waddle around, spitting acid whenever a victim came close, but they were not as dangerous as the ones that started to fly.

Megatronus felt his mind reeling. His head throbbed with every step he took and his vision would blur, sometimes going black for seconds at a time. Dizzy, and finding it difficult to stand, he used his claymore as a crutch, trying to figure out what was happening, when he registered a great pain in his arm. He looked down to his right arm and noticed that some acid had grazed it. His burning flesh seemed to bubble as blood poured out of the exposed wound. It was fascinating how the acid burned the skin and flesh but not the blood. The blood boiled, but it landed on the ground before it could be burnt completely.

He made it so far. And here he was, about to be killed by some birds when he had never been so close to freedom. It was a shame. He would fall just like his blood, and perhaps drown in a world of red. Maybe he would get sent to hell for all his killings. Maybe in hell, he would be forced to fight like this every day.

He screamed for himself to keep fighting, but his body wouldn't listen. It was done. _He_ was done.

The victor lived, the loser died. The victor lived because they could. The loser died because they couldn't avoid getting killed. It was a simple pattern that everyone had to step into. Megatronus could kill a lot of people, but he couldn't kill these birds. They would live, and he would die.

He supposed there were worst ways to go.

Megatronus suddenly felt an arm wrap around him, as he was dragged away from his claymore, and pulled as far from the birds as one could get. He registered that it was Dreadwing who was holding him, and that a newly recovered Soundwave, and a partly recovered Skyquake where fighting the birds off, and doing a decent job at it as well.

"Finishing off the birds while they where still disoriented is a good idea in theory," Dreadwing told him, "however, in practice, it's better to let _yourself_ recover before going straight for the kill,"

"Dreadwing," Megatronus mumbled, the words barely coming out. "How many…"

"I think there are about twelve left about now, no wait— eleven, Soundwave just killed one," His younger teammate reported. He then picked up his mace in a defending stance, obviously intent to murder whichever of the Chimera creatures came their way with his weapon.

"Give yourself a moment to get your brain functioning," Dreadwing told him. "We'll be alright until then,"

Megatronus watched the colors swirl and blur around him, desperate to separate one from another. His body felt as if it was on fire, while his brain felt like it had been crushed and then impaled. He couldn't tell if his heart was beating to fast or not beating at all. Maybe he was already dead. He felt as though that would be something he'd be sure about, but then again, he had never died before.

Something landed besides him with a loud _thud_. Slowly shifting his head to the side to see the object, Megatronus was able to make out the features of a black Chimera-bird. It's skull was bashed in, obviously Dreadwings doing, and its blood was soaking into the dirt, while small drops of the acid drooled from it's open mouth, burning into the dirt.

These creatures where such able fighters, yet their bodies where so weak.

Just like a human.

In fact, maybe it was _because_ of such a weak body that humans fought so well.

Or maybe, Megatronus considered, he had gone so crazy that he was having an existential crisis about a dead lizard-bird that spat acid.

Though, now that he thought about it, Megatronus had to wonder, how _do_ those creatures survive with acid that could burn through iron bubbling in their stomach.

Slowly and carefully, the young man sat up, reaching over to the birds corpse, and holding each jaw with his hands. With a single pull, he ripped the entire body in half; a testament to how weak it was. What kind of Alchemy could possibly make such a _weird_ creature.

Some acid fell from its body, along with blood, which Megatronus had to avoid getting on his leg. But, like he predicted, the creatures insides were made from something strange lining that somehow kept the acid from burning it.

Slowly, he got up, taking in a deep breath as another bout of dizziness almost overtook him. Slowly walking towards Dreadwing, he handed him one of the corpse halves, simply telling him, "shield,".

Megatronus walked over towards his own claymore, which was right in the dirt where he left it. He gripped the birds corpse by it feathers and skin, and used it to deflect a barrage of acid spit that seemed to fall towards him. It worked perfectly, and, observing the tactic, Soundwave and Skyquake quickly took to doing the same.

One by one, the birds where eventually all finished off. Megatronus did a quick corpse count, noticing that they were down by one.

At the far end of the stadium, near the door the birds were released from in the first place, sat one of the Chimera's in the dirt. It wasn't actually doing anything. It was just sitting there.

The boys approached it, but took a few steps back when it spat acid at their feet. Eventually, Soundwave let out a rather large sigh, which was the most noise his team had ever seen him make, besides his deadly screams, and walked as close to the Chimera as he could without stepping into acid range. He then swung his whip across the area. The whip was made from barbed wires, and it easily clawd into the birds face, and ripped it off, like one where simply pulling clothes stuck by static away from each other. And they were finally done.

Probably out of curiosity, Soundwave approached the area the bird had been sitting in order to see what was there. Almost buried into the ground was a small egg. For reasons unknown to anyone who ever knew the man, or would ever know him, he picked it up, and tucked it under his kilt to hide it, obviously deciding he wanted to keep it for some reason.

The four members of Pit #1 left the arena as fast as they possibly could. They held themselves up until they were able to get to the benches where they would wait for the other teams from the Pit's of Kaon to fight against beast of their own, and immediately laid down on the bench. Megatronus let his vision finally go black, and his mind turn off, and before long, he found himself in an extremely deep sleep.

* * *

 **And done with another chapter. Hope you liked. It's been a while since we've last checked up on Megatronus, and it's about time we did so.**

 **I think we can all take a guess about which character was introduced this chapter. Though I haven't called them out by name, I think it's kinda obvious.**

 **Anywho, I've been very proud of myself so far with how much work I've put into this fic, and how I've managed to stay on-task and keep writing it. I've had really bad habits of forgetting to finish stories, and this one I'm not gonna drop, and keep going until the end, despite the fact that I'm kinda looking at at least eighty eventual chapters at this point. It'll be a long hall, and I'm thankful to all those who have followed, favorited, read, and reviewed this story, and I hope that you'll keep reading it as long as you can. That being said, a review would be very much appreciated, since I kinda live off them, and hearing people's thoughts on my writing is always a joy. So leave a nice little segment of your thoughts on this chapter or any other chapter you'd like, please!**

 **And I guess that's all I have to say. At this point, I'm just building up for the eventual volcano eruption that anyone who know's the transformer series will know is coming. But I digress. Just sit back, and enjoy, and hopefully I can shape this thing properly.**

 **Thank you!**

 **~MotherUniverse signing out!**


	13. Chapter 11

**Hello dear readers!**

 **Welcome to the chapter we've all been waiting for; The Act 1 finally! Now we get to jump into the real plot stuff, which should be pretty fun.**

 **This chapter took some work, and while it's not as good as I wish it could be, I still found myself happy with it, and I do have to pat myself on the back for getting it done on time. This particular chapter will be somewhat heavy on the gore, but it's not the first chapter that was this way. Besides, despite being a supposed Kid's series, Transformers often forgets how to kids series.**

 **On another note, my family has been in a bit of a need for money, so I've created a account in order to doc in some extra cash. The account is called Mother of the Universe, and it's primarily for art, writing, and animation, the final category being something I plan to do later this year. Link is here, just ignore the indentations**

 **.com**

 **/MotherOfThe**

 **Universe**

 **Finally, in response to some guest, yes, the bird is going to be Lazerbeak. I wan't exactly planning to introduce Lazerbeak to the story when I did, but then I got the idea to make the symbiot an acid-spitting Chimera bird-lizard, and there was no going back. And to the other guest question, Bumblebee will pop up, however, he is part of the younger generation of this story. I divided the majority of the character into three generations; those born during or before the Slave uprising, those born between said uprising and the big Civil war, and those born during the civil war. Bumblebee is part of the third Generation, and though he won't show up for a while, he will play an important role when he does come in. Most of the members of team prime, besides the few we've seen already, are part of the third and second generations.**

 **And that's all I've got I think. I don't own the transformers franchise, that's Hasbro's job, though I wish I did because that would be cool.**

 **And without further ado, on with the show!**

* * *

Chapter 11

* * *

When they woke up, the Pit was done with the preliminary rounds. While some members of the company stayed to watch the other teams battle their own variant of Chimera's, most went back into the lounge where they would rest up until the real fights started. Megatronus led his crew of to-be-runaways towards the corner where they had sketched out their plan.

"I found some rope we can separate into string," Megatronus began. "If we douse the string with run, it'll make pretty good ignition,"

"We brought enough supplies in order for me to make twelve bombs in total," Jackie told them. "The main entrance has two giant doors, and three wallways at the end of the back wall,"

Stain nodded. "One on the right, the other on the left, which leads to the stadium audience seats. And the center one takes us to the waiting area where us gladiators stay while waiting for our turn,"

"And finally, there's a small cage door which we enter to get into the arena," Megatronus concluded. "We can set fires at both the right and left stairs, which'll keep the audience from leaving the stadium. That only leaves us with two issues; the main tower where the guest sleep also serves as an exit from the stadium. Not to mention if the guards wanted to, they could easily jump from the stadium to the arena, which is why we have to set the entire perimeter of the arena on fire,"

"Should be easy enough," Flametrekker said with a laugh. "We just spill the rum all around during our fight,"

"But the cleanup crew might cause a problem with that," Jackie pipped in. "They could possibly destroy the rum circle,"

"Which is why we have to time the bombs to set off while one of us are fighting," Megatronus concluded. "When that team is done with the rum circle, we'll set everything else ablaze,"

"And how would the team get out?" Dreadwing mentioned.

Megatronus hesitated. Of course there would be one precaution they didn't plan for.

"We'll just light everything up the moment they exit," Wolverine claimed proudly. Everyone else just shrugged. It was as good an idea as any.

"Since Jackie isn't fighting in this tournament, he can easily set up the bombs without anyone realizing he's gone,"

"So it's up to me to blow the doors up," Jackie concluded, nodding, though sounding nervous. "I'll do my best," He promised.

"That's great and all," Skyquake spoke up, "But how do we get into the streets once we escape the arena?"

"Everything will be on fire," Wolverine said. "I doubt that people will be worrying about a few escaped prisoners,"

"But still—" Skyquake tried to continue, but Megatronus cut him off.

"One thing at a time, Skyquake," Megatronus told him. "We need to focus on the escape itself; then we can figure out what to do afterwards," The twenty-year-old boy let out a long sigh, feeling like he aged a decade just by spending time in Iacon. As important as Skyquakes concern was, Megatronus didn't have enough energy to think on it. He'd worry about that later. He couldn't afford a headache right now; not when he needed to be in his top condition for what was to come. "When we escape, — and we _will_ escape, — we'll make a plan based on how everything is going at that moment,"

* * *

The team vs team rounds where soon. The small crew had gathered all the things they would need, hiding the rum in their kilts, and they spent whatever leftover time they had assembling the string. Jackie had found someplace to hide, and began to construct the fireworks, assembling them as quick as he could in order for them to be ready in time. The moment the tournament started, Soundwave silently slipped out of the waiting area, and spilled rum on either stair that led up to the audience stadium, then led a tail of string from the spill into the waiting area if the other gladiators. Megatronus waited patiently, a match in hand, for the time when they would strike.

Jackie, meanwhile, finished assembling the firework bombs, and went to set them up. There were guards at the set of doors. This meant he would have to set up his bombs on the other side of the door.

Peaking out a small hole in one of the walls made for ventilation, Jackie was able to see that at the other side of the door there were no guards. The same could be said for the second set of doors a few yards away from it. The guards where likely stationed on the other side, but since there wasn't really a way to get to the space between, unless one was small enough to fit through the vent holes, it seemed nobody deemed it necessary for guards to be stationed there.

Jackie let out a deep sigh, his brain working overtime as he wondered how in the _hell_ he was going to get inside. Quickly running up to the next level, Jackie looked all around for the place where the mechanics would control the opening and closing of the doors. He finally found a locked door which he assumed was the room.

He always found it a good thing to keep the right tools in hand. He was Wheeljack; renamed after a mechanics tool. What it did, the young boy had no clue, but that was besides the point.

The young boy took a dagger that Soundwave had procured for him, and jammed it into the door lock. A simple twist, and it was open. Two men greeted him at the other side of the door.

"What the slag are _you_ doing here!?" One of them snapped, approaching the younger boy. Jackie felt his heart leap into his throat. What was he going to do now? If those men alerted one of the guards, there'd be no escape. His friends where counting on him. He had to do something, he—

Suddenly, he found his hands coated with fresh red blood. It didn't take him long to figure out why.

The man who had approached him had _Jackie's_ dagger stabbed into his temple. He just killed a man.

He just killed someone.

 _Oh my God, I just killed someone!_

"You little piece of slag!" The other man shouted angrily. He held a baton in his hands, and with a harsh _CRACK_ , he slammed it against the little boys head.

He felt himself getting hit, over and over again. Jackie started to panic. He couldn't die. He had to blow the doors up so everyone could escape.

Acting on nothing but instinct, Jackie grabbed the dagger, which was still lodged in the other man's head, pulled it out, and thrust it through his attackers foot, before quickly pulling it out. Before he could register the man's shouts of pain, he plunged the dagger into his forehead.

It was as if Jackie had forgotten how to breath. He just stood still, in silence, unsure of what to do. The men were dead, the floor was read, his hands where red, his clothes where red, and he was pretty sure that the club had given him head trauma. Attempting to process everything in his mind at once was difficult, and for a moment his entire brain went blank, simply focusing on attempting to register what was right in front of him.

Two dead men.

And a whole lot of blood.

As his brain began to clear, his body somewhat getting over the shock once it realized it wasn't getting oxygen, forcing the young boy to take a breath, Jackie tried to remember why he wanted to go into that room in the first place. Something about the door.

Quickly, his eyes flickered to his right hand, where, covered in blood but still visible, laid the brand mark. The mark of a slave.

That's what he was supposed to do in this room.

He was going to blow up the door with his fireworks so he and his friends could escape.

Jackie grabbed the fireworks, doing his best not to look at the dead men, and trying to shake the feeling of nausea and hasiness from his head. The room was beginning to look like a giant blob, but when everything faded back in, he was able to make out a trap door.

Entering the place where it lead, Jackie started climbing down a ladder that scaled the doorway. He let himself feel satisfied that he managed to get into the space between the two gates, but he was disappointed that he could still smell blood, despite a stream of fresh air leading through the area. He finally reached the ground.

"Uh oh," He whispered to himself, eyeing the bloody handprints on the ladder. "I'll have to clean that up, I guess," He murmured, setting up six of the fireworks by the door, and placing the other six at the door across. He laid a long piece of rum-dosed string, connecting both ends of the fireworks together, and, for extra measure, he dumped a small puddle of rum around both sets of fireworks, as well as a trail from one door to another.

It then occurred to him that he had no clue how he was going to set the fireworks off when he was supposed to. There was a small window in the gate-operations room, allowing the workers to see into the arena, but he wasn't sure how to blow up his creations from up there. He settled for grabbing one of the fireworks, and taking it up with him, planning to light it up and drop it down, thinking that the explosion would possibly set fire to the rum or something, getting the rest of the fireworks to go off.

The smell of the dead bodies washed over his nose as soon as he climbed back into the room, and Jackie was shocked to see the corpses of two men on the floor. There was a knife in one of the men's heads, and Jackie could've sworn that knife was the one Soundwave gave him, but he couldn't remember using it for anything. It occurred to him that he didn't remember how he got into the room at all. Something strange must've happened if he ended up in said room and two men were dead.

Jackie shut the door, blocking the bodies from his sight. He would have to think about how they died later.

The twelve–year–old boy found a place to sit inside the room, watching the tournament, and waiting for the arena to light up in flames.

* * *

Megatronus was shaking. It wasn't pre-fight anxiety; he had gotten over that long ago. But he was nervous. Jackie was twelve. Yes, the boy somehow knew how to make fireworks, but that didn't change the fact that the little boy was young, inexperienced, and frankly shouldn't have been left to complete the task on his own. But they would just have to have faith that the boy got said task done, because if those fireworks did not go off when the arena fires were started, then the entire plan would fail.

He felt a bit sick to his stomach, but he figured that was normal, considering the task he was about to put himself through. Even still, he attempted to ignore the feeling, not wanting it to interfere with the task at hand.

The Pit was matched up against another company from Tigar Pax, known as the Half-Beast. Megatronus suddenly found himself wishing he studied more about his enemies.

Megatronus, Soundwave, Skyquake, and Dreadwing marched into the arena, weapons of choice in hand, and as many containers of rum that they could fit stuffed under their kilt.

 _Please Jackie,_ the once-unnamed man silently begged; _Please pull through. You_ have _to._

Their opponents where the standard gladiator size. None as tall as Megatronus, but they were all well-built. One in particular was, despite being muscular, somewhat thin, with strong-looking legs. He was going to be a fast one.

Each team member eyed a side of the arena to work with, and as soon as the bell struck, they all ran their opposite directions.

Megatronus ducked past a confused opponents attack, running straight for the far right corner of the arena. He pulled the first can of rum out from under his kilt, and began pouring along the wall perimeter, leaving a trail of wet dirt along the walls. Soundwave and the Twins where both performing the same action, while their four opponents just stood in the center of the arena, watching with confused expressions. The crowd seemed equally confused, as much of the shouting was questions of action, while others simply demanded more action.

The first cantine ran out of rum, so Megatronus simply threw it to the side, pulling out another cantine, and continued spilling from where he left off. The entire space had to be covered; they couldn't afford to mess up.

The four competitors from Tigar Pax seemed to understand that their opponents had no intentions of fighting them. They considered this an advantage, hoping that maybe it could allow them to destroy their opponents.

The fast one went for Megatronus, using his speed and agility as a trump card against the large man. Twin swords clashed against the silver claymore, and the rum bottle dropped to the ground, spilling in a large puddle. Megatronus had to be careful if he didn't want to lose more of the precious fire-starter, and made sure to keep his lower half as far from his opponent as possible.

The fast man circled around his opponent, meticulously trying to stay in Megatronus' blind spot. This caused him to have to keep turning around in order to keep up with him, making him dizzy. If his opponent kept using the same strategy, he'd be done for.

Lucky for him, the man seemed to be unable to change his pattern, meaning that all it took was a meticulous and sudden change in the opposite direction he'd been spinning into surprise his opponent, and slice his claymore right through the fast man's abdomen. His opponents dead body fell into the spilled puddle of rum.

Megatronus continued with his task, unbottling another jar and running with it, leaving a swirling path of wet dirt.

He turned his head to check on the other's progress. Dreadwing had finished his side of the arena and was rushing towards his brother in order to help him battle one of the foes. A second cadaver said that Dreadwing had finished off an opponent of his own.

Soundwave was doing an excellent job multitasking; Fighting off his opponent at the same time as continuing to spill his rum circle. Megatronus smiled in pride. Only an immortal and a long time veteran could pull off such a demanding feat.

The third opponent fell, and Skyquake ran off to finish his line of rum, while Dreadwing headed over to assist Soundwave. Megatronus finally finished his rum line, and went over to do the same.

Dreadwing had been able to keep the man distracted, allowing Soundwave to finish his work, while he went toe to toe with a larger opponent. Dreadwing swung his mace, clashing against his opponents shield, while said opponent threw out his sword, grazing the younger opponent, and the boy's hip started to spill blood. Dreadwing feel to his knees as pain surged throughout his body, desperately covering his wound with his hands.

"Dreadwing!" Skyquake cried, abandoning his task immediately, and racing towards his twin, desperate to protect his brother. "Dreadwing no! Leave him alone!"

Skyquake was not close enough to reach his brother in time. However, their teammate was. As the large man was about to drive a dagger through Dreadwings head, shouting out, "This is for my teammates!" He suddenly was pierced through the heart with the tip of a silver claymore.

Megatronus pulled the sword out, ignoring the blood that fell onto him. Skyquake finally got over to his twin, wrapping the boy into a large hug, as tears spilled from his face. "Brother, please tell me your ok!" He begged.

Dreadwing rolled his eyes, though his smile was enduring. "I've suffered worse," He laughed weakly.

The sound of metal gritting against metal allerted them to the gate that had been drawn up. Their exit. A pit of dread fell down into Megatronus' stomach when he realized that they hadn't covered the entire parameter yet.

 _Scrap_.

Uncapping one of his remaining bottles of rum, Megatronus spilled it out in a line behind him as he exited the arena into the safety zone. Soundwave followed suit, apparently having the same idea as he left a trail of rum behind him. Skyquake, supporting a hobbling Dreadwing, came out last, as Flametrekker quickly supported his injured friends other side. Stain had kept ahold of the rope, and the matches.

"It's now or never," The older boy whispered.

Megatronus simply nodded, while Stain lit two matches, one he used to light the string up, and the other he used to light the rum near the entrance. The orange flames quickly spread, dancing across the path of rum left for them as it circled much of the arena, catching onto anything else it could inside it; the corpses of the gladiators from Tiger Pax, unplugged weeds, whatever scrap of dirt, concrete, or surface it could grab onto. The black smoke and the orange fire mixed beautifully as the entire arena lit up in flames.

The audience panicked, trying to run out, only to see that their primary exit was blocked by a wall of the fire, set up by Soundwave. They screamed in a panic, unsure of what to do or where to go, while the guards posted to watch the slaves got lost in the chaos, unable to do a thing, and unsure what to do even if they could.

"It's all on you know, Jackie," Megatronus whispered to himself, praying that the twelve year old boy had managed to set up the fireworks.

* * *

Jackie watched the flames, understanding that this was his cue to blow the gates. He took his spare firework, lighting it up, and letting it drop, waiting for everything to explode.

It occurred to him that the room he was in probably wasn't the safest place to be in during an explosion.

Opening the door to the room, he paused when he saw two men laying outside of it, dead. He briefly wondered how they ended up that way, and why they looked familiar. Maybe he passed them already.

The explosion went off, as the gates blasted apart in a colorful array of chaos, and the doors keeping the slaves from their freedom came crumbling down.

* * *

Immediately, the seven gladiators who planned the escape up and left, running towards the exit as fast as they could. Taking advantage of their new escape rout, many of the other gladiators followed suit, some thanking the heavens for their chance to claim freedom, others simply no wanting to die in the fire. Everyone began to make a desperate climb over the rubble, while the audience, trapped by the fire, made their own attempts at a desperate escape. The ones who managed to leave didn't even try to stop the slaves from running away; they just wanted to live.

Megatronus stood atop the rubble, scanning the area for Jackie.

"Megatronus!" he heard Skyquake call to him. "We gotta leave!"

"Go without me!" He demanded. "I'll catch up! I need to find Jackie!"

The mobile twin nodded, as he and Flamtrekker continued to guid his brother out of the arena.

Smoke was everywhere, some of it dust from the explosion, some of it from the fire. Anything that could light ablaze had done so, as the orange dancers continued to eat away at whatever they could. Megatronus continued to look around for the little boy. Without Jackie they never would've been able to pull such a feat off. The little boy had gone through hell; sold to a gladiator, raised to kill, forced to watch friends of his die at the age of ten, and violated and abused by the Trainer he was forced to work for. Jackie needed freedom just as much as the rest of them did; he was not leaving this areana without the boy.

Against his better judgment, Megatronus ran into the interior of the building, trying to think of where Jackie could possibly be. He raced up to the third floor, attempting to find the room that worked the gates. It would be logical that Jackie would be there. Luckily, he found the boy, but Jackie was not ok.

He laid at the edge of the floor, which seemed ever so close to crumbling. The only thing that kept him from falling to his death was a large piece of concrete that laid on top of his legs, blood seeping out from the bottom of it. There was another dead body crushed under the rock, but Megatronus paid no mind to him. He was already dead. Jackie may have been alive.

Carefully stepping onto the unstable ground, testing his footing before every step in case the floor was to break under his feat. He wandered over to the unconscious boy, panic raising in his chest as he realized that the boy was loosing blood rather fast. He crept over carefully, before wrapping his arms underneath Jackie's shoulder, holding him tight.

Taking his claymore - which he realized he was still carrying, - Megatronus dug the sword into some stable-looking parts of the concrete. Gripping the sword hard as possible, he stomped his heal into the unstable ground, over and over and over, until it finally gave away. The ground fell out from under him, and he held Jackie close as the piece of rubble fell off his legs and fell to the ground.

There was little left of Jackie's legs - just some mangled flesh and bones handing off a knee-cap limply. Blood continued to drain from his legs in disturbingly large amounts, as the boys already pale skin quickly began to look more pale.

Using the sword as a boost, Megatronus lifted himself up to the stable ground, shifting his hold on Jackie into a position that had his legs leak as little blood as possible. Holding the young boy close, Megatronus ran off, leaving his claymore to get consumed by the fires, much like everything else.

When Megatronus met up with the rest of the boys he had planned escape with, they had claimed to have found bandages in one of the carts, and had already dressed the deep cut in Dreadwings hip, though it looked like it would need a change of bandaged soon.

The moment they laid eyes on Jackie's legs, many of them physically panicked, though Soundwave simply took the young boy from Megatronus, and carried him into the cart where they had found the medical supplies. The boys followed him.

Laying Jackie down onto a thin blanket laid on the ground, Soundwave got to work, starting off by pouring some of the leftover rum the crew had over the young boys legs. His face seemed to scrunch up in discomfort, though he remained unconscious. Soundwave ignored this, rushing onto the next step. He took a dagger he must've picked up from the arena, and began sawing at the leftover flesh keeping his crushed legs attached to him.

"What the frag are you doing?!" Megatronus snapped as Soundwave ignored him, continuing to saw the rest of the boy's legs off. Megatronus reached for the knife to stop him, only to be held back by Stain, who told him; "Those legs won't work anymore,"

Megatronus let Soundwave continue his work, his eyes burning with anger, as the first leg finally came off. Soundwave simply tossed the useless limb aside, before quickly sawing off the next leg, working as fast as he could to keep the boy from dying. He then grabbed the box of matches, and began to light the stumped legs on fire.

"The hell!?" Megatronus snapped, standing up, and quickly scanning the cart for water. He found a bucket of it, and doused it over the flames on his legs.

His stumps where burnt shut, so at least he wasn't bleeding anymore.

"How did you even?" Megatronus asked, before remembering that no matter what questions he had, Soundwave wouldn't be answering. He decided to leave it be.

The silent man covered up the boy's stumps in bandages, and then crawled to the front of the cart, where the horses were still attached to it. Grabbing the reins, Soundwave drove the cart away from the arena, as it continued to burn down around itself.

It had been three months since the Gladiator Stadium in Iacon had burned down. Orion Pax, much like everyone else in the city, had heard the news, and as he also heard, many slaves had managed to escape. He noticed that there were quite a few people in the street with gloves on, though that didn't necessarily mean anything, since gloves were worn by free people just as well as slaves as a sanitary precaution.

* * *

Orion couldn't help but smile when he got the word. He had been in Beta's cafe at the time, enjoying a glass of milk, while Alpha Trion was chatting to Beta herself. It was Elita who had shared the news, and it took all the self-control he had not to let out a cheer.

Orion was eighteen now. He had finally gotten pass his supposed growth stunt, much to Ratchet's satisfaction, and had even managed to grow taller than Ironhide, which he considered a feat of it's own. His hair was long, and he wore it up in a pony tail, and he was beginning to grow something that could actually be considered facial hair around his chin and jaw.

He had been a slave for three years, and in that time, he became a legion for his ability to read, met some of the greatest friends he ever had, and learned more alchemy then he even thought possible. Alpha Trion still hadn't managed to create anything that resembled a homunculus, and was beginning to get frustratingly obsessive over his work. He was giving Orion less and less breaks, and Orion usually found himself working during periods he was supposed to be eating. Hunger and fatigue were slowly eating at him, but he guessed it could've been worse. And whenever things started to get too out-of-hand, he had Ratchet to back him up, and the medic was more than willing to beat his "doctor's orders" into anyone who refused to listen.

The three years had been a mix of hope and misery. Orion had found himself on the whipping post again, as one of the in-city slavers had accused him of running away when he was caught out by himself once. Orion couldn't call his life a happy one, but his friendships with Ratchet, Ironhide, Elita, and even the nameless slave he hadn't seen since the day he was sold were all dear to him. If all his pain was his price for meeting those wonderful people, he would be content paying for it.

It was the third day of the month of December, meaning he was allowed to go out of the house and meet up with Ironhide. While it didn't snow in Primas, like it did in Orion's old home, the weather still got reasonably cold during the winter, so Orion had switched out his thin cotton toga for a warm set of robes, along with a winter cloak. Orion had come to like the winter, because in the winter, it was rare to see a citizen _without_ a pair of gloves, making Orion feel more at home. A brand mark may separate a slave from the rest of the free people, but if everyone were hiding their hands, there'd be no way to tell who was free and who was not. He had talked to Elita about this thought of his, to which she replied;

"Why does that matter? Brandmark or not, everyone's hands look the same,"

Orion had mulled over her words in his head, understanding her words in a way. Ironhide and Orion both had palms, thumbs, and fingers. As did everyone.

So what made a slave any different?

Nothing. There was nothing that made a slave any different from a free man, nothing that made them less human. Orion understood. Slavery itself was wrong, but the culture was built on it, so there was nothing he could do, without turning the principles of a countries entire foundation on its head.

That left one thing to wonder — what could he do?

Ironhide was at the park as usual, but he was the only one there, which didn't surprise Orion in the slightest. It was cold and miserable outside, and likely the only reason Ironhide even came here was because he knew Orion would be there as well.

"The strangest thing happened today," Ironhide told his friend as the two boys walked the streets together, hoping to find some place indoors where they could hang out without being asked to leave due to not buying anything. "I came across some guy; he looked pretty old, had a lot of facial scars, greying hair, unshaved. He was the biggest slagging man I've ever seen too!"

"What about him?" Orion questioned. He was sure Ironhide was exaggerating; he had often talked about large men approaching him, and tended to embellish his stories to seem as if he had escaped certain death or something.

"Apparently he was looking for you, knew your name and everything. Said he was an old friend of yours,"

Orion stopped walking, his brain clicking the information together. It couldn't be…

"Did he have a name?" Orion asked.

"He said his name was Megatronus. He's named after one of the thirteen original primes, so he couldn't have come from your homeland. Could he?"

"Megatronus, huh?" Orion laughed. "So he finally got a name," Ironhide stared at the read-head in confusion.

"Though, Megatronus feels a little too long for him,"

* * *

Through the few contacts he had, Orion spread the word about how he was looking for an old friend, who might have arrived in Iacon. Ironhide alerted Chromia, and Orion told Elita and Ratchet. Suspecting that it was possible that Megatronus escaped from the Iacon gladiator arena that had burned down recently, Ratchet was careful who he talked to, though vague rumors of the arrival of an old friend of the slave who could read drifted around the city,

Elita had gone to Chromia's shop to pick up goods, where she saw Chromia talking to a little boy without legs.

"Arial, this is Jackie," Chromia introduced the little boy. "He's an old friend of mine. And I think Orion would be interested in meeting some of Jackie's friends,"

It wasn't long before Orion met Jackie himself. The child was energetic and talkative, amazed to finally be meeting a legion amongst the fellow slaves he knew before being sold to the Pit. And Jackie told Orion about Megatronus; a fierce and undefeatable gladiator, who cared for those younger than him, even though they gave him nothing but trouble, and who protected his friends all he could. Orion smiled. This sounded like the slave boy he met on the ship. Who exerted a kindness and feeling of safety to someone he had just met. They kept eachother company on the slave ship; after the hell Orion had gone through, he was thankful to find a friend that allowed him to just… talk.

And his final promise before they were separated still rang in his head, no matter how long it had been.

"You think you could introduce me to him?" Orion politely asked the legless boy, who happily agreed to do so.

The eight run-a-ways who had planned the gladiator escape where hiding out in a small shack on the poorer end of the city, not to far away from where Ironhide lived. Megatronus did his best to help the others find missing friends, while he continued to search for Orion, though, he didn't worry about it to much. Jackie was soon reunited with Chromia, and very happy for it too, and the rest didn't really have family. Wolverine contented himself with exploring as much of Iacon as possibly, but he always came back to the small crew of men responsible for their escape. A few of them were trying to figure out how to read, but it was difficult to do so, so many had given up. They also didn't have a reliable source of money, but at least they had Chromia giving them food and supplies and such.

When Orion approached the area they lived in, it was already night, and he had the feeling that he would be stuck sleeping on the poarch again, though he didn't really care. Megatronus himself was outside, collecting water from an old pump, or at least trying to, since it didn't work that well anymore.

"Megatronus! I brought a friend!" Jackie cheered, wheeling his way towards the house.

"Jackie, I swear, if you brought some sort of rodent home again—" Megatronus stopped in the middle of his sentence when he looked at said 'friend'.

"Hey, it's me, Orion,"

The two men stood still, letting the changes in looks sink in. Megatronus had a face covered in scars, and his hair had grown. His cinnamon-brown eyes held an indescribable weight to them, looking almost like shattered glass. They were broken, but there was one small flicker of light left in them, and it seemed to grow the moment Orion said his name.

Orion was no longer small and skinny. His soldiers had broadened, and he had grown taller. His voice was noticeably deeper, and he finally had some muscle on him, instead of the small, roapy arms he had the last time the two saw each other. He had grown out his hair, and held it back in a ponytail. He looked mature, though, he still was the same red-haired, freckle faced Orion pax. His murky blue eyes, still holding the wisdom, kindness, and hope they always held, was proof of this.

"I heard you have a name now," Orion hummed, stepping closer. "I don't really know if you remember me, but I—"

Before Orion could utter out another word, Megatronus had thrown himself upon him, wrapping his arms tight around the smaller man, being ever so careful, as if afraid Orion would be crushed into clouds and it would be revealed that this was all his imagination, but he refused to let go, afraid that Orion would fade away from him the moment he did so.

Orion hugged his old friend back, quiet tears of joy falling down his cheeks. "I missed you," He cried, while an abundance of emotions ran through his body, so happy that his friend had _remembered_ him, had _searched_ for him, and now _held_ him with a kind of warmth that no one else could hold. Three years, and five months, and the nameless boy on the slave-ship still believe in their promise to each other. A boy who took Orion's pain and healed it the best he could, with nothing but a small laugh and a few words.

He heard Megatronus let out a loud sob, as he began to cry as well. The two men held each other tighter, closer, both falling apart and feeling themselves being fixed and built up at the same time. Their hearts pained with the wounds of longing, the realization of how much they had needed each other feeling like a punch, a crack, but at the same time, something was filling up those cracks, as two men who became something greater than friends, more than brothers, even, embraced each other tightly.

"I missed you too, Orion," Megatronus finally sobbed out, feeling like he needed to say something, but not knowing what to say. So he simply repeated the only words made to express what he felt.

"I missed you! I missed you! I missed you so much!"

* * *

 **And done!**

 **Yeash this chapter was hard to write. But at least it's done now. Read and review! Until next time!**

 **~MotherUniverse signing out!**


	14. End of Act 1

End

of

Act

One


	15. Bonus Chapter 1

**So, as a break between acts, in order to give me enough time to write ahead maybe, or at least get some catchup writing done, I decided to do bonus chapters, which are mostly humorous bits of short stories, and behind the scene stuff.**

 **For example; Bloopers.**

 **While the characters may seem like professionally written things, they are actually just humans running around my brain, and they sometimes make mistakes. Which is why we've got this chapter.**

 **And without further ado, on with the show!**

* * *

The Alchemist Bonus Chapter:

Act 1 Bloopers pt. 1

* * *

Prologue

Megatronus: *Elbowing Orion* Get off me!

Orion: OW! *Goes flying back*

Megatronus: Oh my god! I'm sorry!

*The crew begins to laugh*

Megatronus: I have a very powerful elbow! I didn't kill you did I?

Orion: *Wheezing* Nope I'm good. *Deep breath* Ok, lets do that again but maybe hurt me less?

* * *

Chapter 1

*Everyone going chaos*

Camera man: Alright, I just need to keep track of the characters, right?

Me: Yes. Just follow them. Everything should be fine.

Camera man: Alright. Rolling.

Me: Action

*Orion get's herded through the crowd to the slave house*

Camera man: *getting lost in the crowd* Wait... Wait!

*Orion soon gets herded far away from the camera man as he begins to drown in the extras*

Camera man: Help me! Director help me!

Me: *backing away slowly* Sorry, camera man, your on your own

Extra: I GOT HIS SCARF!

* * *

Chapter 2

Orion: *Pulling on the tiger* Come on! Our brothers are waiting for us!

Orion: *turning towards the director* What kind of trippy-ass dream is this?

* * *

Chapter 3

Megatronus: *laughing over the bodies of the dead lions*

Megatronus: *Laughing before starting to cough and stutter*

Me: You alright?

Megatronus: Sorry! I choked on some spit

* * *

Chapter 4

Ratchet: I _am_ a member of of the high council, not to mention the head of medical affairs! Anything that involves the health of another citizen on Primas falls under _my_ authority, and I can say whatever the frag I want to whatever the– fucking, barbecue, Buffalo Bill girlfriend's fucker I please!

*Everyone starts to laugh*

Ratchet: Wrong lines?

Alpha Trion: Oh, you where _way_ off.

Ratchet: Fuck

Orion: Language!

Ratchet: Oh, don't pretend to be a saint, I saw you flipping off the camera man yesterday!

Orion: He stole my fucking skittles!

Ratchet: My point exactly.

Orion: What do you mean— *realization* Oh

Me: Arn't you supposed to be playing a pure bean, Orion?

Orion: Fuck off! I still haven't forgiven you for making me short!

Me: *laughing*

* * *

Chapter 5

Soundwave: *hands Megatronus the earplugs*

Megatronus: *puts them in*

*Gladiator bell goes off*

Soundwave: *singing* I never thought hyenas essential! / They're crude and unspeakably plain / But maybe they've a glimmer of potential / If allied to my vision and brain / I know that your powers of retention / Are as wet as a warthog's backside / But thick as you are, pay attention / My words are a matter of pride / It's clear from your vacant expressions / The lights are not all on upstairs / But we're talking kings and successions / even you can't be caught unaware! / So prepare for the chance of a lifetime / Be prepared for sensational news / A shining new era / Is tiptoeing nearer / And where do we feature? / Just listen to teacher / I know it sounds sordid / But you'll be rewarded / When at last I am given my dues / An injustice deliciously squared / Be prepared!

*everyone claps and cheers*

*Soundwave bows*

Starscream: *coming out of nowhere* Wait a minute! I was planning to sing that song when I assassinate Megatron!

Me: For the last time, you are _not_ assassinating Megatron! Besides, what are you doing here!? Your not even in this _act_.

Arcee: *Coming up behind him* I'm sorry, I couldn't keep him in the back room. *To Starscream* Now, Screamer, what did I just say about going out onstage when your not supposed to?

Starscream: That if I did it again I'd get grounded.

Arcee: Yes. Now, no more spice pumpkin lattes for you.

Starscream: No! Anything but the lattes! Arcee I beg of you!

Arcee: *grabbing his ear* Come on, they've got a chapter to film

Starscream: Ow! That hurts! And your just kidding about the lattes right? Arcee, right? RIGHT?

* * *

Chapter 6

*Orion tackles Ironhide, and the two crash through the fruit stand, and land on top of each other*

Orion: Hey, girl, how _you_ doin'?

*Everyone laughes*

Ironhide: Could we just scratch the plot and make this an Optimus x Ironhide smut fic?

Me: Tempting, but no.

Orion: Besides, I'm _way_ out of your league.

Ironhide: Your a whole foot shorter than me, if anything your out of my league.

Orion: *tackling Ironhide* SAY THAT TO MY FACE ASSHAT!

* * *

Chapter 7

Narrator: Energon, the substance that provides immortality, is a pain to cultivate. Likewise, this entire exposition dump is a pain to narrate.

Me: I didn't ask for your opinion.

Narrator: *ignoring me* so instead of narrating this long, boring, exposition dump, I am instead going to tell you all the story of how the author adopted her dog.

Me: Shouldn't _I_ be the one telling that story?

Narrator: When the author was around eight years old, her old dog, who's name was Samson, died of old age. He was older than her, and for the last two years, it seemed like he was going to kick the bucket at any moment. He had contracted several different cancers, as well as altimeters, and was the dog equivalent of a senile old man who can no longer remember his own name. This dog was mercifully put down. Her mother, being a dog lover, of corse wanted another one, and considering the authors cat hated everybody, the family understandably longed for a new animal to cuddle, or at least one that _wouldn't_ claw their eyes out if they tried. So, a few months later, for her mothers birthday, they adopted a dog. It was a rescue, and the particular dog was the shyest of the litter. Her name was Cha-Cha. A very ridiculous name, but her previous owners where putting the puppies up for adoption anyways, so they decided to name all the puppies after dance moves and call it a day. The author and her family had a very fun time choosing between the puppies, and holding them, and chasing them. Her younger brother was saddened that most of the puppies ran away from him, and her youngest brother was a baby so he didn't know what was going on. They chose the dog they wanted, and picked her up a few days later and brought her home. This was the beginning of something amazing. The family renamed the dog Chloe, and they raised the puppy to be obedient, lovable, and to know she was loved. Soon, the puppy grew into a dog, and they loved her the same. Chloe was the most friendly dog anyone could've ever met. She rarely barked, was sweet to everyone, loved to play, and most importantly, loved her owners. This dog an irreplaceable part of the family, and as the author is writing this, she can see her dog, wondering around the dining room, sitting by the rooms big window, and soaking up the sun. The end.

Me: Cool. Now can we film the scene now?

Narrator: I thought you would _like_ hearing the story of how your dog was adopted.

Me: I would've _liked_ to tell it! It's my story, not yours!

Narrator: Well aren't I part of you!

Me: Well yeah, but... wow. I think my mind just broke.

Narrator: Goddamn it, if your mind breaks, so does mine!

Me: This is weird.

Narrator: I'm just gonna narrate the scene now...

* * *

 **And that's all the time we have for today folks! I hope you enjoyed this bonus chapter. Part 2 of the bloopers will come next Monday, and the Monday after that will probably be the start of the next act, though that depends on wether or not I can think of anything else for the bonus content. I do prefer to write ahead so that I can keep up with the update schedule, so the temporary hiatus from actual story plot should give me enough time to get back on track. I have written the first chapter of the second act by now, but I like to be at least three chapters ahead of the update, mostly for the sake of my sanity. Hope that all makes sense.**

 **Hope you enjoyed! Review!**

 **~MotherUniverse signing out!**


	16. Bonus Chapter 2

**I'm soooo sorry for how long it's been. My family is in the process of packing up our house since we're moving across state, and I've been busy as hell. This move is gonna be a bit of a long haul, but I'll be doing my best to continue with updates and such. Just bear with me, I guess.**

 **Anywho, here is part 2 of the bloopers. Please enjoy.**

 **And without further ado, on with the show!**

* * *

The Alchemist Bonus Chapter:

Act 1 Bloopers, part 2

* * *

Chapter 9

Ironhide: Hey man, I thought you could use a friend

Orion: (slyly) I sure could. Think you could cheer me up?

Ironhide: (Also slyly) Nothing cheers me up like a _big_ cup of cocoa

Orion: Good thing I've got some cocoa beans to spare

Me: For the last time! I am not making this an Orion x Ironhide smut fic! If you two want it that badly, write your own!

Ironhide: I'd say I want _it_.

Me: For the love of God...

* * *

Chapter 10

*Soundwave picks up the Chimera bird egg and holds it up to the sky*

Literally everyone: Nants ingonyama bagithi baba/ Sithi uhm ingonyama/ Nants ingonyama bagithi baba/ Sithi uhm ingonyama/ Ingonyama/ Siyo Nqoba/ Ingonyama Ingonyama nengw' enamabala!

Starscream: *Screeching* LOOK IT'S A MOTHER FUCKING LION Y'ALL DIPSHITS!

Arcee: STARSCREAM I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD!

* * *

Chapter 11

Wheeljack: So, I guess I lost my fucking legs.

Wheeljack: Just like that. They're gone.

Wheeljack: Wonderful. Fucking wonderful.

Wheeljack: HEY LOOK Y'ALL! I'M THE GODDAMN FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST MOTHER-FUCKERS!

Wheeljack: JUST LOST MY FUCKING LEGS TO A DOOR Y'ALL! 'AINT THAT NEAT!?

Me: Jackie, your supposed to be unconscious

* * *

 **And that's all for now guys! Read and review! Pretend that long-ass gap between chapters didn't happen.**

 **~Mother Universe signing out!**


	17. Act 2

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Act Two:

Slaves of Melanosis

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	18. Authors Note

**Hey my amazing followers! I really hate to do this, but I need to put this story on a short hiatus. My family and I are moving across state, and our life has been hectic. I haven't had time to write, or do anything besides pack and say goodbye to my friends, and it would be unfair of me to just disappear without a note. So, I'm writing this message with hopes that it can resolve things for the meantime. I am NOT dropping this story, by all means, but I just haven't had time to work on anything. I apologize, but know that I will be back with another chapter as soon as I can.**

 **Thank you for everything!**

 **~MotherUniverse signing out!**


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